Grief
by Fire The Canon
Summary: Loss can be hard for anyone, but no one knows it more than Ron and Hermione. So why must they continue suffering after everything they have been through? It doesn't seem fair. Rated T. Please R
1. Desinence

**_This is written for wvvampire's 366 Days of Words Word a Day challenge. Except I'm doing it slightly differently. I started from the word when I joined up and am going to continue it from there. So, look forward to 365 more chapters :) That is why they are so short, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. This is what the first word inspired and I hope to continue it from here on. Let me know what you think._**

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**DESINENCE**

_**A termination or ending, as the final line of a verse.**_

_Dear Hermione,_

_So, how's Paris, then? I bet you have forgotten all about Rosie and me already with all the sight-seeing you and Ginny are doing. But, we already miss you and you've been gone for less than a day. I assume the Portkey got you and the baby there safely? I was kind of worried about that._

_Don't worry about us, though. I know you were. Our first night involved camping in the backyard and reading many stories from Tales of Beedle the Bard. You know how much Rosie loves those stories. But she kept asking me when you were coming back. I think there will be many tears before you come back. She misses you._

_Again, don't worry about us. We're doing fine and I promise to have your daughter in one piece when you're done travelling the world. And you must make the same promise for me with our other child._

_Love always,_

_Ron._

Ron's letter was the final straw. The tears she had been holding in for the last twenty-four hours flowed from her eyes. She couldn't control her emotions. She had tried so hard to hide her pain from Ginny, but she couldn't do it any longer. She was allowed to be in pain, even if it did ruin the holiday they had been planning for months.

_I assume the Portkey got you and the baby there safely? _It was like Ron had run a knife through her chest with those words, but he hadn't meant to. Of course he hadn't meant to. But it had still happened. And it still hurt.

"Was that a letter to tell you the house is destroyed?" Ginny questioned teasingly. But her tone changed when she realised Hermione's tears were genuine. She took the letter from her shaking hands. "You're pregnant?" she asked, surprised.

Hermione shook her head, swallowing a massive lump that had formed in her throat. "I was," she said. "The... the Portkey... I think. Ron doesn't know. I don't know how to tell him."

"Hermione, why didn't you say anything?" Ginny cried, tears now forming in her own eyes.

"We argued over it so many times," Hermione said, ignoring Ginny completely. "I assured him it would be fine. But... it wasn't."

"Do you need to see a Healer or anything?" Ginny asked, clearly concerned.

Hermione shook her head. "I took care of it last night."

"Then we must go straight home. Hermione, I can't believe you have been keeping something like this to yourself."

"It hurt too much to speak of it," Hermione answered truthfully. "To even think about it. How do I tell Ron? He will blame me for it." Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

Ginny directed her wand at her trunk and all her possessions flew into it, the trunk closing shut with a soft click. She did the same with Hermione's. "Ron won't blame you, but you still have to tell him. I'll organise for us to get the next Portkey back to London."

And before Hermione could respond, she had disappeared from the room.

Tears still streaming down her face, Hermione took some parchment from the table and picked up the quill. The best she could do was at least give Ron some warning.

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	2. Outrance

**_And so chapter two is here. Thank you to the ones who favourited, reviewed and alerted my story. It means a lot. And I am glad you like it. Enjoy._**

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**Outrance**

_**The utmost extremity**_

_Ron,_

_I'm coming back to London now. Don't worry, I will explain everything when I get back. I am using the Floo Network from there to get home. _

_Again, don't worry._

_Love, Hermione._

Ron sighed and folded up Hermione's letter. Generally when she said don't worry, it meant there was something for him to worry about. But what was so bad that it had caused such a disruption to the holiday she and Ginny had excitedly planned for months?

"Well, Rosie," he said, turning to his almost two year old daughter. "Your mum's coming home earlier than we expected."

"Yay!" Rose exclaimed, the permanent smile on her face widening. Already, she had been asking where Hermione was.

Strangely, Ron wasn't as enthusiastic. He couldn't help but think the worst. It had already been worrying enough that she had gone only a week after finding out she was pregnant. What else could possibly happen?

There was a clatter at the fireplace and Rose excitedly ran towards it, throwing her arms around Hermione's waist the moment she stepped into the living room. Ron immediately knew something was seriously wrong when Hermione half heartedly returned the hug and said a soft hello. It wasn't like her to react to Rose like that.

Ginny followed Hermione from the fireplace, looking just as grim.

"What's the matter?" Ron asked. His heart was hammering against his chest with concern. He didn't like it when she was upset. He hated it. It made him think the worst and he had to fight back to urge to ask her what he really wanted to ask.

Hermione shook her head, playing with Rose's hair absently. She had been crying. That was never a good sign.

"I hear you've decorated your bedroom, Rose," Ginny interrupted the unnerving silence that had filled the room. "I've been very excited to see it."

Rose beamed up at her and made her way slowly up the stairs. Before she followed, Ginny turned around and gave both of them a sympathetic smile. This was not good news.

"Tell me," Ron demanded, harsher than he intended to be.

"Ron," Hermione began, swallowing an invisible lump in her throat. Tears had begun to fall freely from her eyes again. "It's... you were right," she cried. "The Portkey... it was dangerous."

"The baby's gone, isn't it?" Ron asked bluntly. He had been trying not to think about it, trying to imagine every other possible thing that could happen, but it had been in the back of his mind. Part of him had known all along.

Hermione nodded, refusing to look him in the eye. "I'm sorry."

Ron didn't say anything. He couldn't speak. He had told her, but she had insisted everything would be okay. He had asked her to use the Floo Network, but she had said it would take longer. He had begged her to travel safely, but she hadn't listened to him.

Part of him wanted to yell at her, to scream that he was right and she should have listened, but the pain in her voice; in her eyes stopped him. She knew – he didn't need to tell her.

"Why aren't you angry?" Hermione asked after a while.

"I am," Ron said. It was true. He had never felt angrier with her in his life, but his pain at the loss was stronger. He had never felt such extreme pain before – except for maybe when he had been forced to listen to Hermione being tortured all those years ago. Maybe then, it had been worse. "But I'm not going to blame you, Hermione. It wasn't your fault."

Hermione finally looked at him. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and it brought a moment of weakness for Ron. He wanted nothing more than to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. It was just another emotion to add to all the ones he was already feeling; another one that he forced back down.

"You do blame me," she whispered. "Yell at me, tell me you were right and I should have listened to you. Just don't be nice about it."

"I'm not going to blame you," he repeated. _No matter how much I want to_. He fought back another urge to comfort her from her obvious pain. This was too much. There were too many emotions surrounding them – pain, love and sadness to name a few. If he felt anything else in this moment, he'd explode.

With a deep breath to fight back the words he really wanted to say, he took Hermione's hand and simply said, "We'll be okay."

Well, he hoped that was true.

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_**I hope I made it clear that the 'utmost extremity' were Ron's emotions. That was what I was trying to get across. Please don't leave here without giving a review. Thanks.**_


	3. Perspicacious

**_Thank you to all those who have reviewed my story so far. It really means a lot. And I am glad you are enjoying it. So thankfully, my third word seemed to fit nicely with where I wanted this chapter to go anyway. I was rather pleased with that. I hope you enjoy it and I would love to hear your thoughts. _**

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**Perspicacious**

_**Having **__**keen **__**mental **__**perception **__**and **__**understanding; **__**discerning**__**.**_

_Dear Ron and Hermione,_

_We would like to send our condolences to you on your loss. It must be such a hard time for both of you and we are truly sorry. If there is anything either Audrey or myself can do, do not hesitate to ask. We understand how you must be feeling and would gladly help in any way we can._

_We wish you all the best and all our love,_

_Percy._

"_Understand?_" Ron scowled, scrunching the letter into a small ball and throwing it unnecessarily at the wall. "How would _he_ understand anything like that? And who told him anyway?"

"He's-he's just trying to help," Hermione answered shakily, although she too wasn't all that pleased with the letter. It was too soon. Percy's letter made it seem real.

They had been lying in bed when Percy's letter had arrived, wide awake and deprived of sleep. Neither had managed to get any more than an hour's sleep and they didn't think they would now. The sun was already starting to rise and was promising a nice day. Why didn't it feel like that?

Normally Rose would be up by now, bounding around and begging them to get up and play with her. But they hadn't seen her yet. It was as if she knew something was wrong... and maybe she did. Maybe she had sensed their sadness, or their quietness from the night before. Not many words had been spoken since Ron had promised everything would be okay.

And they both knew they had been empty words; words that neither of them truly believed.

"What do we tell Rose?" Ron asked suddenly as if he was reading her mind.

"Nothing yet," Hermione answered. The thought of trying to explain what had happened was too painful and too complicated. She wouldn't understand.

Her eyes drifted to the empty ceiling. There was nothing there for her to see, which meant there was nothing there for her to feel. She liked it that way.

"We can't, not, tell her," Ron replied quietly.

"She didn't know anything in the first place," Hermione argued, but there was no anger in her voice. She didn't have the energy. "Ginny was the first person I told besides you."

"And she went and blabbed to Percy, didn't she?" Ron scowled again, this time directing his wand at Percy's scrunched up letter as if to make a point. It caught fire and was soon a pile of ash sitting on the bedroom floor. "If Rosie hears anything before we have told her, she will be confused. It's best if we tell her and she doesn't hear it from someone like Percy. He will only try talking to her like she's thirty years old."

Hermione remained silent for a while as she continued to watch the blank ceiling. She then faced Ron for the first time in hours. "I'm not ready," she confessed.

"Then I will tell her," Ron answered gently. He too, was looking at her. "I will explain it over and over again, until she understands if I have to. She needs to know."

For what felt like the hundredth time in a matter of hours, tears began to roll down Hermione's cheeks. She choked back a sob as she fell into Ron's arms. He hadn't been so comforting until now. In fact, he had been rather distant.

She knew it was because – no matter what he said – part of him blamed her. He had every right to blame her. She should have listened to his concerns. He had a right to be concerned.

But for this moment, that didn't seem to matter to him. He held her lovingly, rubbing her back with affection, his own feelings forgotten. When she cried harder, his arms around her tightened.

It felt like they were there forever until a small body coming between them broke them apart.

Rose's little face beamed up at her with her red hair flying in all different directions. Despite everything, Hermione smiled back.

"Don't cry," Rose observed, noting her tear stained face.

Hermione ran her fingers through her daughter's hair, feeling her heart fill with more sadness. Ron was right, they needed to tell her. Last time she had refused to listen to him, they had lost a child. She wasn't going to make that same mistake again.

"Why are you crying?" Rose demanded. She had panic in her voice and it made Hermione ache with love for her little girl.

"Rosie," she began, looking at Ron rather than her daughter. "There... there is something daddy and I have to tell you. It's something sad."

Rose's eyes flickered to Ron for a moment, before she returned to Hermione. "I don't want to cry," she said with a voice full of innocence.

_We have to tell her_, Hermione encouraged herself.

"But if we don't tell you now, then you might hear it from someone else and then you won't understand," she told Rose quietly.

Rose nodded. "Okay."

Hermione looked at Ron again. He had said he would tell her.

"Rosie, do you remember when your mum left to go on a holiday with Auntie Ginny and I told you that when she came back, she would have a big surprise for you?" Ron began.

Hermione smiled despite herself. She had always admired Ron's ability to speak to Rose. He always seemed to find a way for her to understand.

Rose nodded and them stared excitedly and wide-eyed at Hermione. "You have a present?" she asked. She was on her feet now and Ron had to drag her back down.

"No," Hermione answered. "I... I don't anymore."

"Do you want to know what that surprise was, Rosie?" Ron asked before Rose could ask why. He had sat Rose in his lap now and had his arms around her just in case she had another outburst like before.

Rose nodded eagerly.

"It was going to be a... baby brother or sister for you."

Hermione heard the strain in his voice; how much effort it took for him to speak in past tense. She blinked back more tears. It hurt even more when Rose's face lit up at Ron's words. Now they would have to tell her that that wasn't to be.

"Yay!" she exclaimed, struggling in Ron's arms.

"Rosie, please listen carefully to the next part," Ron choked. Hermione saw tears now glistening in his own eyes. She couldn't _ever_ remember seeing Ron cry. "When... when your mum left with the Portkey, she..." he broke off suddenly and looked at Hermione with desperation in his eyes.

Hermione moved closer to Ron and Rose, brushing her hand across Rose's soft cheek. Her daughter was watching her intently. "That baby... got lost." It was a stupid way to tell her, she knew that, but the words she really wanted to say wouldn't come. She couldn't speak them – not to herself and certainly not to Rose.

"We can find it!" Rose exclaimed, confirming that she didn't understand. Of course she didn't.

"No, Rosie, it can't be found," Ron replied calmly. His arms tightened around her and his lips pressed into her hair. "It's... dead."

There, Ron had said it. Ron had said what she couldn't bring herself to say, or even think.

"Oh." Rose's realisation broke Hermione's heart. Only a few moments ago, she had been the innocent little girl she deserved to be. Now she had this information to carry with her, perhaps forever. It wasn't fair. "Is that why it's sad?" she asked.

Hermione nodded, blinking away more tears. "Yes."

Ron finally let go of Rose and she crawled across the bed and wrapped her arms around Hermione's neck. Just her touch brought comfort and warmth to her; a type that she could only receive from her daughter.

"It's okay," she said soothingly as if she were the older one. "Don't be sad."

Hermione held Rose close, in awe at what her not-even-two-year-old-daughter was saying. Ron smiled at her, but it was a sad smile that was filled with pain. That was perhaps the hardest thing either of them had ever had to do.

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	4. Alate

**_This is a bit of a 'plotless' chapter, but I hope you enjoy it all the more. Thanks again to all those who reviewed and favourited and alerted. I love getting the emails. So here it is:_**

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**Alate**

_**Having **__**wings; **__**winged**_

_Angel. _That was what Rose had said and it sounded nice. It suited. Their baby was an angel.

Part of Ron felt as if he should let go of what they had lost. He still had Hermione and he still had Rose. He had his family, he had his friends and he had a good job. That should have been enough, but it wasn't.

He couldn't let go. Not of the angel they had lost. It was like something was missing and he wondered if he would ever get over it. But it was a comfort to think that what Rose said was true. Her baby sibling had turned into an angel and was now watching over them all. Sometimes the things she said amazed him. It was like she was ten years older.

"I just sent an owl to mum and dad," Hermione's voice startled Ron from his reverie. He turned to her as she came to sit beside him in the living room. It had been two days since she had returned from Paris with her news and she had refused to talk to or see anyone who came by. In fact, it seemed she got worse each day, not better. "Just to let them know. They can't Apparate so it will take them a few hours to drive here once they get the letter and start to worry about us."

Ron realised it was her attempt at making a joke. She didn't want her parents to come; she didn't want them to worry.

"How's Rose?" he asked her, changing the topic. While she had been writing the letter to her parents, he had thought she had been putting Rose to bed.

Hermione shrugged indifferently. "Fine."

Once again, Ron was taken aback by her lack of affection when speaking of Rose. It wasn't like her at all. Not Hermione, who was capable of crying over the simplest of things. Or maybe she just didn't know how to talk to her. It was clear she didn't know how to talk to _him_ right now.

"I love you. You know that, right?" He felt as if he hadn't said that enough lately because his anger and frustration had stopped him. But he did love her; he loved her so much and nothing would change that.

Again, Hermione shrugged. Her only response was to lay her head on his shoulder, where he felt her uneven breathing as she tried to stop herself from crying. It bothered Ron to see her so upset all the time. It hurt.

"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't," she murmured. "You were right and I was wrong and look what happened when I don't listen to you."

Her words sparked a realisation in Ron that he hadn't seen before, when in truth, he probably should have. She knew he didn't blame her, but she blamed herself. She was angry with herself for not taking what he said more seriously. It was why she had gone into this depressed state; she thought it was her fault.

But it wasn't. Not really.

"Just think of what Rosie said," he told her as he stroked her hair affectionately. "We now have an angel watching over us." Once again, his daughter's words filled him with hope and happiness. She could get them through this.

"Angel," Hermione said quietly, a small smile forming on her lips. "Our angel."

And she laughed.

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**_As you may have noticed, I haven't been using the actual word, but rather the definition to inspire my story. I hope each one is getting across the way I have planned. Was it obvious that the 'wings' were the angel? _**

**_Please don't leave without giving a review. I love reviews._**


	5. Persnickety

**_Thanks again for reviewing. I really, really appreciate it. This chapter pretty much fitted perfectly with what I had in mind, so I was quite pleased. The emotions I am trying to portray is all guess work. I have never been in a situation like this, so I don't really know how someone would truly feel. Please let me know if you think it is right. I don't want to get it wrong._**

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**Persnickety**

_**Overparticular;**__**fussy**_

There was a knock at the door and Hermione didn't need to look towards it to know who it was. In fact, she didn't. She waited for Ron to open it and let her parents in. As expected, the first thing her mother did was hurry over to where she was lying on the couch and ask her a million questions.

"Are you okay?" "How are you feeling?" "How did this happen?" "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

They were all questions she was in no mood to answer. If she did, it would just make everything seem even more real and that was too painful. It was like what she had wasn't enough anymore; it was like something was missing.

"I'm fine," she said quietly, the lack of sincerity in her voice, obvious. Of course she wasn't fine. How could she be? And it didn't help that the one person who understood how she was feeling – who was feeling it too – blamed her.

She didn't blame Ron for being angry, though. It was her fault; it was _all_ her fault.

"No you're not," her mother said with a kind of ferocity. "What you've been through... no one would expect you to be fine."

"She's not talking to me," Ron said from somewhere out of sight. Why did he have to worry so much? More than anything, she needed him to understand how sorry she was. Any pain he was feeling, it was her fault. She didn't like being the cause of that. She hated it.

Since returning from Paris, she had either lied in bed, staring at the blank ceiling – the one that made her feel nothing – or had lied on the couch with her eyes closed, imagining that she hadn't lost anything.

When she thought about it really hard, she only had Rose. Rose was her only child. There was no one else to love, no one else to miss. That was how she liked it. It was only Rose.

Then Ron would say something, or Rose would start talking about the angel baby and she would be brought back to reality where everything hurt. She did have someone to miss.

Despite her mother's attempts to get her up from the couch, Hermione refused to move.

"You must eat something, dear. You can't lie around all day, every day, just hoping that your pain will disappear. It's not healthy."

_But it helps me_, Hermione thought to herself, sadly.

"Where's Rose?" that was her dad. He hadn't said much since they had come.

"With Harry and Ginny," Ron said to him when he realised she wasn't going to answer. She heard the strain in his voice as he fought to stay calm. She knew he was hurting too – she could hear it when he spoke, or see it in his eyes – but he had always managed to hide his feelings better than her. Ever since she had known him.

"They don't need to be brought into this too!" Her mother again. "We'll go and pick Rose up and take her... out, if you'd like. It can't be good for her. Where do your friends live?"

Hermione, who had her eyes closed again and was forcing herself to think of her only child, her little girl, didn't answer. She wasn't even sure who her parents were talking to anymore. Ron was doing all the talking.

"They're house is invisible to Mug – you," he told them. "And, they offered," he added. Hermione thought his tone sounded a little offended.

Her mother's hands stroked her hair affectionately. Even after everything she had been through, they were still a comfort. She didn't tell her that, though.

"Oh, I can't believe this has happened," she said, ignoring Ron's slip up. If there was one thing they hated about the wizarding world, it was being called a Muggle.

She spoke in a gentle, soothing tone; one that relaxed Hermione. "Was there no other way for you to... travel? No other safer way?" she asked.

Hermione shook her head. "None that is as quick," she mumbled with her eyes still tightly shut. "And that was my mistake. The Floo Network is a little more complicated when travelling to another country, but it would have been safer. Ron told me that. I wouldn't listen."

"This isn't your fault," Ron said. It was as if he was begging her – pleading with her – to forgive herself. Did he realise that this was something she was going to blame herself for, forever? Even if she wanted to let go and forget, she wouldn't be able to. It hurt just as much as if it had been Rose – the child she knew and loved more than anything.

"He's right, dear. These things happen. In your world, or ours. You can't blame yourself."

Unwanted tears trickled down her cheeks. She tried to blink them away before anyone saw, but they were too close not to see. Her mother pulled her into a tight hug, which she accepted. Whether she was ten years old or twenty-five, she always needed her mother.

An unsettling silence filled the living room and was only interrupted by another knock at the door. She heard Ron move to answer it and all of a sudden the room was filled with the worried voice of Molly Weasley.

Now there were two people here to fuss over her. Perfect.

"Mum... this isn't really a good time," she heard Ron say. "If you could just give us some time to – "

Molly wasn't listening and when Hermione finally found the courage to open her eyes again and face reality, she saw the concerned expression across her mother-in-law's face.

"How are you feeling, dear?" Molly asked, cutting over Ron. "I didn't come straight away to see you, because I thought you might need some time. Ginny told me what happened. She was quite worried for you."

"I'm fine," Hermione lied again, forcing a smile. How could she be telling them this when she felt nothing but pain?

"Of course you're not. No one would expect you to be after what has happened." Molly conjured some tea from thin air and handed a cup to Hermione. She didn't feel like it, but she accepted it anyway.

Beside her, her own mother tensed slightly. Although they had never said anything, Hermione had always suspected her parents felt slightly threatened by Ron's. They were part of the same world as she was. They understood things better.

"Drink up, it will make you feel better."

"Mum, she doesn't need all this fuss right now," Ron groaned. "Neither of us does."

Molly looked at Ron and then back to Hermione, who was watching her with a blank expression. Something in Ron's words or her eyes must have triggered something, because she nodded.

"Of course." She patted Hermione's arm comfortingly. "If there is anything you ever need me for, please don't hesitate to ask. I will be here in a flash."

Hermione nodded, thanking her, but it was only out of politeness. She didn't need anyone; especially someone who would only fuss.

With a warm and affectionate goodbye to her parents, Molly Disapparated, startling both of them slightly. But they had enough sense not to say anything. Her mother only held her tighter.

"Drink Molly's tea," she whispered.

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**_The last chapter from Hermione's POV, she was sad. This time I tried to make her come across as more angry and annoyed. I hope her changing emotions suit this situation._**

**_Please don't leave without giving a review. It really means so much to me!_**


	6. Shiv

**_I have no idea how long my success in uploading every day is going to last, but I will try my best. I will keep saying how much it means to those who have reviewed, favourited and alerted this fic. I love knowing that people are reading it and liking it. Thanks so much! _**

**So this word kind of threw me off a little. I felt it didn't really flow with the direction my story was heading in, but I improvised and I actually like it. I hope you do too.**

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**Shiv**

_**A **__**knife, **__**especially **__**a **__**switchblade**_

_Finally_, Hermione's parents had decided they could leave. It was a relief. Although he liked them, their presence had been doing Hermione no good. He could see her mother's fussing was causing her more pain and that wasn't what he wanted.

They had been ready to leave two hours earlier, but then Ginny had appeared with Rose, so they had decided they would stay a little longer. It had been some time since they had seen Rose, so he could understand why they would want to see their only grandchild. It bothered Ron when he was on an Auror mission and he was away from her for only two or three days.

"Bye, bye," Rose said, giving her grandmother a hug. She permitted her a kiss on the cheek before running back to stand beside Ron. She completely dismissed – probably forgetting about – Hermione's father until he insisted on a goodbye too.

When she was satisfied that she had said enough goodbyes, Rose vanished behind a copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard, where she flicked through the pictures inside. Ron guessed she would ask him to read to her in a matter of moments.

Hermione said a quiet and unenthusiastic goodbye to her parents and hurried them out the door. The moment they were gone, she made her way up the stairs without another word. He heard a door being shut and he knew she had locked herself in the bedroom.

"Daddy, can you – "

"In a moment, Rosie," Ron interrupted, his attention not on his daughter, but to the empty staircase where Hermione had just been. It wasn't like Rose couldn't tell each of the stories to herself, anyway. She had heard them that many times.

Feeling extremely concerned, Ron followed Hermione up the stairs. Sure enough, once he reached their room, he found the door locked. He tried three different spells that could unlock a door, but none of them worked. Hermione didn't want to talk to him.

"Hermione, I will blast this door down if I have to," he called from the other side. He thought he heard a faint sob. She was crying again.

There was no answer, just some more crying.

"Don't do this," he pleaded with her.

"Go away," Hermione sobbed. Her voice was choked and it broke his heart. Three days ago, they had been happy; excited. Now, he couldn't even remember what either of them meant.

"Talk to me!" Ron demanded, trying his best to hide his increasing fear. "For goodness sake, Hermione, talk to me. I need to know what you are thinking."

There was a soft click as the door unlocked and then swung open on its own accord. On the other side, Hermione was curled up on the bed, her hair covering half of her tear stained face. She barely acknowledged his presence as he came to sit beside her, rubbing her back in an attempt to comfort her. It wasn't working; she only cried harder.

"I'm thinking that I _never_ want to go through this again," she said through her tears.

"What do you mean?" he asked soothingly, although he had understood her perfectly. He just wanted her to talk.

"I don't want to feel like this ever again. I don't want you to blame me; I don't want to blame myself anymore. If we ever had another baby and it happened again, I just couldn't..."she didn't finish.

"I understand," he soothed. "But you need to give it time... and I don't blame you." He would tell her a thousand more times if that was what it took to make her realise this wasn't her fault.

Hermione shook her head, more tears falling. She had done nothing but cry since returning, but this was the most upset Ron had seen her. In fact, he couldn't remember a time he had _ever_ seen her so distraught. He blinked away a few of his own tears. His own feelings would have to wait.

"It hurts more than anything," she cried. "I'd rather someone come along and stab me with a knife over and over again than have to feel this. It would hurt less."

That idea didn't make Ron feel any better. "Your... your parents didn't make anything... any better?" he asked cautiously.

Hermione shook her head again. "Only worse," she cried. "It's been four days and mum basically told me to get over it and move on. I can't do that."

Ron didn't say anything. He couldn't remember his mother-in-law saying any such thing, but obviously she had said something that had caused Hermione to interpret it in that way.

There was movement at the door and Ron glanced up to find Rose standing in the door way, her prized book clutched tightly to her chest and a look of confusion on her face. She was watching Hermione intently.

"Rosie," he said calmly. Beside him, Hermione stirred. She wiped away her many tears and also looked at their daughter.

Rose didn't say anything. She didn't move. Ever since they had told her, she had stayed calm. It was like she had actually _understood_, but it seemed even this was too much for her.

_And so it should be_, Ron thought. She wasn't even two, yet. But there was no way to protect her from it, now. It was too late.

"No more being sad," she said loudly. She threw the book in their direction, as if in an attempt to hurt them, but her tiny arms couldn't get it much further than a foot in front of her.

"Rosie, don't." Hermione's voice was weak. It had no effect on Rose whatsoever.

"Stop being sad," she said again. She was crying now, but it was the crying of an innocent child who didn't understand. Parents weren't supposed to cry – that was how Rose saw it. "I don't like it when you're sad."

Tears rolling down her innocent face, she disappeared from their room. Ron now understood what Hermione had meant when she had said she would rather a knife stab her over and over again than to feel this. There was nothing worse than seeing his Rosie upset.

What he had considered to be a perfect life just days earlier was now crumbling right in front of him. How could someone he had lost before he had even known them cause such pain? It didn't seem fair.

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	7. Deucedly

**_If it wasn't obvious in previous chapters that I absolutely adore and hardcore ship Ron and Hermione's relationship with Rose, then it will be obvious in this chapter. I am obsessed with the family aspect of their relationship. Also, this word was just plain annoying to use. I had to bend and twist its defintion in all ways so it would vaguely fit with the theme of this story. I hope you pick up on it._**

**Thanks for the reviews! It means a lot.**

**Note (which I have forgotten in other chapters): I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter.**

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**Deucedly**

_**Devilishly; **__**damnably.**_

"Rosie, are you going to let me into your room?"

"No!" Rose called back. "Go away, mummy. You're sad."

"I promise I'm not anymore, sweetheart. Can you let me in, please?"

"No."

Rose didn't understand. Why was her mum always crying? Why was her dad always sad, too? They weren't supposed to be sad. They were supposed to be happy... like they used to be.

Her Auntie Ginny and Uncle Harry were happy. They didn't cry.

"It's bad when you cry, mummy," she added. "Really bad."

"I-I know," her mum replied from the other side of her bedroom door. "But I didn't like seeing you cry before, either, Rosie. I came to see if you are okay. Can I come in?"

"No," Rose repeated.

"I brought your book back."

"It's a bad book. I don't want it."

"Rosie... please let me in."

Her mum sounded sad again. She didn't want that.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Go away."

"You need to understand, Rose. I want to explain it to you."

"I do un..._unstand_. The angel baby isn't a angel. It is a bad baby, mummy. It makes you and daddy sad all the time. And that makes me sad."

Her bedroom door opened and her mum came in, carrying the book she loved so much. But she didn't like it anymore. Not since it had been what she was reading when she had seen her mum crying.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm really sorry that you had to see that; that we told you in the first place." She sat down beside Rose. There were still tears in her eyes.

"Do you promise not to be sad anymore?" Rose asked hopefully.

Her mum nodded, brushing away her unshed tears. "I promise not to be sad when you are around," she said.

Rose smiled slightly. "Okay." She didn't say anything for a long time and neither did her mum. They just sat there. Outside, she could hear the birds chirping. They seemed happy. She wanted to be happy like the birds.

"I hate that angel baby," she said suddenly.

"Don't say that, Rose."

"But I do. I won't make you sad like that." When they had first told her that her baby brother or sister had died, she hadn't been angry. She had thought that they had gone to Heaven, but how could a bad baby go there? Only good people went to Heaven.

"I know you never would, Rosie. That's what makes you so special. That's why I love you and I didn't mean to make you sad before. I never like to do that."

"I don't like to be sad, mummy," Rose said. It was the truth. She hated feeling upset. She liked the times when she was happy and so was her mum and so was her dad. They were all happy before her mum left for her holiday.

"I know," her mum said again. "No one does."

Feeling slightly better, Rose took back her book. She opened it to a page where there was a great, big picture of an old wizard, who was standing beside a younger one. "Will you read to me?" she asked.

Her mum smiled and nodded, taking the book from her hands and looking at the words on the page. "I'd love to. Where would you like me to begin?"

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	8. Remora

**_Oooh, I reached 20 reviews in a week! That hasn't happened before. Thank you all so much. It's good to know people are reading my writing. So, once again, this word fitted in with the theme of my story. Yay! Enjoy._**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

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**Remora**

_**An**__**obstacle,**__**hindrance,**__**or**__**obstruction.**_

_Dear Hermione,_

_I'm so sorry I haven't come to see you yet. Ginny said you were pretty emotional (which, of course, I don't blame you for) and suggested I wait. If you're feeling up to it, we'd like to invite you, Ron and little Rosie over tomorrow night. Of course, it's only if you are feeling up to it and we completely understand if you're not. _

_If not, I will try and drop by sometime within the next few days. _

_Love always,_

_Harry._

The thought of venturing outside the house and into the real world terrified Hermione. Here, there was only Ron and Rose. She wasn't expected to answer questions or to explain herself. Ron understood how she was feeling – he was going through it too – and Rose was just a child. Anything she said, they could pass off as her not being able to understand or innocence.

But once she saw Harry, she knew he would want her to talk to him. And she couldn't do that. It would make her feel what she didn't want to feel. She would be forced to acknowledge how much it hurt.

"Are you going to accept?"

Hermione was startled from her thoughts by Ron's voice. She hadn't been aware that he was there, let alone that he had read Harry's letter.

"I-I probably should," she began. "But... I don't know."

"It would be good for you," Ron said. "For both of us."

"It would be weird, though, wouldn't it?" Hermione asked. "Seeing them... _happy_, when we're not."

_Happy_. It seemed like such a strange word these days. There was no part inside of her that felt happy. All she seemed to feel was guilt, regret and unhappiness. They were too powerful – too strong – and were stopping her from feeling anything other than that.

"It will bring back some normality," Ron countered.

Hermione watched him, her eyes burning into his and for the first time since coming home, she realised that she had not once seen him cry. He hadn't spoken of his feelings at all.

_She_ had been too concerned about her _own_ pain and her own guilt over what had happened to even think about how he was feeling for more than a few seconds.

It wasn't fair. He had more right than anyone to be upset and angry over what had happened, yet he had remained calm while telling Rose and he had _never_ let his emotions cloud his judgement. It was he who was trying to get some normality back, while she just sat back and allowed him to do so without any kind of support or attempt to fix things.

Sometimes she took him for granted. He'd do anything for her and she was letting him, no matter the cost.

"Why won't you let yourself feel something?" she asked softly, knowing she spoke hypocritically. Wasn't fighting her emotions exactly what _she_ was trying to do?

"I feel enough," Ron replied. He never was one to speak of his feelings.

"You're hurting. I'm sorry, I haven't allowed you to feel anything. All you have been doing is worrying about how I feel. You've had no time to grieve."

"I don't need to. I'm okay." It was a lie. She knew him too well. He wanted nothing more than to take it out on her – the one he blamed. But he had been forced to put that aside because she had been too upset and depressed for him to blame.

"I've cried so much these last few days. It's all I do, but you..."

"You know me, Hermione. I'll deal with this in my own way. I _am_ dealing with this in my own way."

But that wasn't fair. He was there for her. Why couldn't she be there for him?

_Because I haven't allowed him to grieve_, she thought sadly.

She was stopping what he really wanted to feel; what he needed to feel.

"I love you," she said, hoping that it wasn't too late to be saying that. The last thing either of them needed was to feel like they didn't have each other. Surely, that was how she had been making Ron feel lately. Surely, he was struggling to find a way to keep it together.

"Just cry, or yell, or scream, or something," she then pleaded.

Ron shook his head. "I don't need to."

"I haven't let you," she corrected, but he shook his head again and she knew that there would come a moment where he wouldn't be able to keep it together anymore. She just hoped that when that time came, she wouldn't be a mess too.

"I love you," she repeated, making sure he understood. He merely nodded that he had heard her.

For the first time in days, she kissed him, but the kiss was empty. None of those usual emotions she felt stirred inside her. There was nothing but sadness over their loss. What did this mean? She _did_ love Ron, she knew she did. Why did she feel nothing.

He seemed to understand what she was thinking, because he looked at her with such yearning and whispered, "It will just take some time. I love you."

_A lot of time_, she thought as his lips kissed hers again. There was nothing there to feel happy about.

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	9. Natheless

**_My thoughts when I saw this word: lots of swearing. That is why there is very little of this definition in this chapter. And there is plenty of head canon. I hope you enjoy anyway, the flow is slightly different to the other chapters._**

**Thanks for the reviews again and I don't own any Harry Potter.**

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**Natheless**

_**Nevertheless**_

Despite its size and many rooms, Grimmauld Place was loud and crowded when they arrived. It had taken a lot of convincing and soothing words, but Ron had eventually managed to convince Hermione that accepting Harry's offer would be for the best.

He really thought it would help them – not forget, but – move on. And coming to Grimmauld Place always made Rose happy. He hoped that being with her friends and seeing Rose happy would make her feel better and forget about everything for a few hours.

And a few hours would be all that would matter.

As they stood on the front step, waiting for someone to let them in, he thought back to when she had kissed him the day before and there had been no emotion; no passion. That had never happened before. _Never_. He had _always_ felt something when he kissed Hermione. He hoped that it was only temporary; something that could be fixed over time, because he loved her so much and couldn't imagine that feeling ever going away.

"I always forget how... cheerful this place looks these days," Hermione murmured. Ron agreed, squeezing her hand tightly, comforting her. It hadn't looked this cheerful or this bright when Sirius had lived there.

When Harry answered the door, he smiled at them, but it was clear he was unsure whether or not that was the right thing to do. It was almost awkward, which in itself felt strange. This wasn't right. Things shouldn't have been like this.

Rose beamed up at Harry, who ruffled her hair affectionately before she through the narrow hall and up the staircase, more than likely in search of her cousins. Ron and Hermione followed Harry into the kitchen – the place he remembered spending a lot of his time.

Like the rest of the house, it was more welcoming than it used to be. Harry and Ginny had done a really good job at redesigning it. Sirius had never been bothered.

The smell of food greeted them and Hermione's grip on his hand loosened slightly. This was familiar. The amount of times they had spent dinner and Harry and Ginny's place, he couldn't even remember. He knew it had been a good idea to come.

Ginny greeted Hermione warmly, barely acknowledging Ron. The two vanished, deep in discussion over one thing or another. Harry looked at Ron and he shrugged. As far as he was concerned, if she wasn't thinking about what they had lost, then it didn't matter.

"You're okay, mate?" Harry asked cautiously.

Ron shrugged again. He didn't know. He had been too worried about Hermione to think much of his own feelings. He liked it that way, though. It meant there wasn't much for him to feel.

Harry nodded, as if understanding, but he didn't speak of it again. Instead, they turned to discussing the Quidditch results from the past few weeks. In truth, Ron hadn't paid much attention to Quidditch the last few days. Some things were just more important.

"Just maybe the Cannons might do something this time, eh?" Harry said with a teasing smile.

"I hope so," Ron answered, smiling back. It felt good to smile. He couldn't remember the last time he had genuinely felt happy. Everything such as that seemed long in the past now.

But it had only been five days.

The door to the kitchen burst open and James and Rose came running in, smiles on their faces and giggling uncontrollably.

"Where's your brother?" Harry asked James.

He shrugged. "We're playing hide-and-seek, we can't find him _anywhere_!"

Ron tried not to scoff at the idea of them playing some game Muggle children played. Surely there were plenty of other games that were more suitable – and more fun – for young witches and wizards.

It had been Rose who had taught it to James and Albus not so long ago. She had learnt it while playing with other children in the same – Muggle – street as Hermione's parents. He didn't really understand it, anyway.

"Have you tried the top floor?" Harry asked, smiling at both of them.

Rose and James both shook their heads and then vanished again, laughing.

Ron looked at Harry with a curious expression. "Have you tried teaching them wizard's chess?" he asked.

"They're a bit young for that, don't you think? Anyway, hide-and-seek can be very effective if you learn the best places to hide. It worked for me when I had to live with my cousin when his thug friends were around."

Ron didn't know what _thug_ meant, but he had learnt long ago that Harry and Hermione would always know more about the Muggle world than he did. Even if he had spent a lot more time in it since being with Hermione.

"We found him!" James' voice echoed from somewhere up above. More laughter.

Harry chuckled to himself, before returning to talking about Quidditch.

Ginny and Hermione returned to the kitchen a short while later and Ron was pleased to see that she was smiling. And it seemed genuine.

Whatever Ginny had said or done to make her smile, he was really grateful for his sister. In fact, he was really grateful for Harry too. Their discussion of Quidditch and then _hide-and-seek_ had momentarily distracted him from what had plagued his mind for the last few days.

"The food should be ready soon," Ginny announced as she stood over a steaming pot.

"Great!" Ron exclaimed. "I'm starving."

The look that Hermione gave him sobered him up instantly. Clearly it still wasn't time to smile _too_ much.

OOO

"Again, again!" Rose exclaimed as she watched Harry's Patronus stag vanish back into his wand. She was jumping up and down in excitement, along with James and Albus.

It was close to nine and they were all in the living room, watching Harry send his Patronus around over and over again to the delight of the three kids.

It was a favourite pastime for Rose when she came here. She always enjoyed the magic the 'grown-ups' could do and the Patronuses were her favourite.

But Harry's stag was her absolute favourite, because it was _the biggest_.

"Next time, Rosie," Harry promised. "You'll be sick of it otherwise."

Rose's eyes narrowed which reminded Ron very much of Hermione when she was her normal self. Strangely, he missed that about her; he missed the bossy Hermione. Anything was better than the one he had now.

Despite appearing to be happy a few hours earlier, she had reverted back to staring blankly at the wall in front of her. Her eyes glistened with tears once again and it seemed she was paying absolutely no attention to Rose, James and Albus' laughter.

"Are you okay?" he heard Ginny whisper from where she sat on the other side.

Hermione nodded, but it wasn't convincing. Ginny turned to him, her expression asking for help. He didn't know.

"I think it might be time for you to go now, Rose," she then said. Ron nodded, thanking her.

Rose shook her head. "No."

Harry, who was still being talked into using his Patronus for entertainment, turned to Hermione. They could all see how much she didn't want to be there.

"Come on, Rosie, it's getting late," he said.

Rose shook her head again. "No."

Ron squeezed Hermione's hand tightly, willing her to not burst into tears again. She had promised Rose and he didn't want her getting upset again. Rose was happy right now.

"Don't make me go yet, daddy," Rose begged.

"Rosie, we have to, okay," Ron said as calmly as possible. He got to his feet and scooped her into his arms. She protested for a few short moments, but eventually settled.

They had arrived by Apaprition, but Hermione seemed in no state to do that right now. Who knew what would happen if she wasn't thinking clearly.

"You can come back tomorrow if you want, Rose," Harry suggested. "You can spend the whole day with James and Al. But only if you go home now, okay?"

Rose nodded, her smile returning. "Okay."

Ron took Rose to the fireplace and stepped inside. Hermione stood back, waiting for them to disappear. "Home," he said clearly. There was that familiar _swooshing_ sensation and he appeared moments later in the living room of his own home.

Hermione appeared straight after them.

She smiled at him despite everything. It seemed that in spite of her momentary lapse, seeing Harry and Ginny had seemed to cheer her up slightly. There was still a long way to go before either of them would feel normal again – if they ever would – but it was a start.

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	10. Slimsy

**_I'm quite happy with this chapter. The word completely influenced where I went with it, though. Which is the whole point, so I'm pleased._**

**Thanks to all those who reviewed. I love reading your reviews.**

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

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**Slimsy**

_**Flimsy; **__**frail.**_

Hermione woke the next morning to the sun shining through the window and Ron standing in front of her, a tray of food levitating in front of him. When she looked at him, he smiled and she actually thought it was genuine. He didn't seem unhappy anymore. So why did she?

"Good morning," he said with a wide smile. "Are you hungry?"

"N-no," Hermione answered shakily, propping herself up in her bed. Why was Ron doing this? What had she done to deserve such treatment?

"Oh, okay then. Well – " he placed the tray beside her, " – if you do get hungry..." he trailed off, sounding disappointed.

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded. She didn't mean to sound so harsh, but the words were out before she could take them back. It still didn't make sense that he could be so forgiving; so understanding.

And he needed to cry. She was positive that he was only staying strong because she was a mess.

"I thought that after last night, you were... better," Ron answered, ignoring her harsh tone.

_He's too good for me sometimes_, she thought sadly. Spending time with Harry and Ginny _had_ been good for a while. Ginny had distracted her with other things to think about and they had been laughing and joking with one another. For a while it had worked, but then she had begun to feel guilty for it and she had gone back into her dark place and nothing had been able to lift her out of it again.

There she was, less than a week after it had happened and she was acting as if nothing was wrong. She had forgotten for a few hours. It didn't feel right to forget. She could never forget.

Ron was still watching her, waiting for her to answer, but she only shook her head.

"O-okay, I'll be back soon, then," he said shakily. He left her alone, closing the door behind him.

Hermione sat in her bed for a while, feeling so weak and so helpless. Why couldn't she do it? Why couldn't she just push it aside like Ron was and get on with her life? He seemed to be coping for now, even if she still thought there would come a time when he wasn't. It had to be better than wallowing in self pity, anyway.

Rose needed both of them, but she only had Ron.

Forcing herself out of bed, she opened the door and made her way down stairs and into the living room. No one was there. She tried the kitchen; still no one. It wasn't until she heard Rose's screech of laughter, did she think to check outside.

The sight that greeted her was able to bring a smile to her face, when nothing much else could these days. She watched as Ron helped Rose onto her toy broomstick, which was levitated a foot in the air. She was giggling uncontrollably as it zoomed her around the backyard.

Ron too, was smiling, clearly delighted. Rose rarely liked flying, which Hermione knew disappointed him.

When she had stopped and was back on the ground, Rose waved in her direction, beaming. Hermione waved back, her smile widening. It didn't feel wrong to smile at her daughter.

Ron looked at her as well, but his smile faltered. He looked angry, more than anything. _Finally_, she thought.

"Again!" Rose cried in delight.

"In a minute, Rosie," Ron replied absently. He was still watching Hermione, his eyes not leaving hers. They were asking if she was here to make an effort; if she wasn't going to fall back into her dark reverie and cry again. They also told her that he loved her, but he was confused about _her_ feelings.

She looked away. Weakness.

Her emotions were so fragile at the moment. Everything she had felt a week ago was gone. She loved Ron, she knew she did, but she had no desire to do anything about it. All she wanted was to be left alone.

"You stay here, Rosie," Ron said, sitting her on a chair. "I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" He took Rose's broom with him as he made his way towards Hermione. Rose was the type of person who would try and fly by herself.

Hermione braced herself as Ron neared her. He looked angry... no, hurt. He was hurt. Very hurt.

"You're okay now?" he asked, when they were far enough away so Rose wouldn't hear them. Despite the look in his eyes, he sounded concerned more than anything.

"No," she answered truthfully. "I just came to... to... I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked bluntly.

"For everything," Hermione told him. She choked back her tears, but for the first time they weren't tears for her lost child. She was crying because she missed the comfort Ron used to give her. He was there, but he was so distant from her and that was because she was pushing him away. He wanted to be there, but she wouldn't let him.

"I can't help it," she continued. "I can't help feeling like this."

"Like what, Hermione? Talk to me."

"Like I want to be alone."

Weakness again. Escaping was the easy option. Working through it with him was the right thing to do, but it was too hard and too painful. He was stronger than her.

Ron shook his head, but he couldn't seem to find the words he wanted to say. He was shocked.

"I-I can't deal with feeling like this anymore," she said.

"I don't want to feel it either, but we have to cope. _For Rose_." He emphasised the last words and Hermione turned to where Rose had obeyed Ron's every word. She remained seated on the chair he had put her on, her legs swinging back and forth. She'd do anything for Rose.

"What's happened to us?" she asked. "You're trying, but I'm not. I don't know how."

"So much has happened, Hermione. You can't expect to wake up one day and for everything you are feeling to just disappear." He sounded shocked, like he couldn't believe _he_ was the one telling _her_ that.

"I feel so weak," she confessed quietly.

"We both do," Ron replied. She noticed he was shaking slightly. Were all the feelings he was keeping inside ready to burst? How much longer could he keep them bottled up?

A few tears rolled down her cheeks. Not again.

Ron's eyes narrowed and _finally_, he looked furious. "Stop it," he said angrily. "Stop crying."

"I told you, I can't help it," she whispered.

"Then try and learn, Hermione. Learn how to put aside what you are feeling for five minutes and try and move on. It's what I do." Any affection he spoke with before had disappeared. He was blatantly furious. "You promised Rose."

She was too weak to argue, or say anything at all. She had known the time would come when Ron would lose it, but she hadn't expected him to be _that_ angry with her.

"If you think leaving and escaping your problems like that is the right thing to do, then go. I won't stop you. I've tried and tried, Hermione. I'm over it. I can't do it anymore. Just go, okay. If that's what you want."

Hermione bit her lip. She deserved it, but it still hurt. "Ron, please, I – "

"Rose is waiting for me," he said. And he walked away.

Hermione had never felt so weak in her life. There was no strength inside of her to fight, or to make him come back. She just let him walk away.

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	11. Educe

**_30 reviews! I feel so happy :) I've never had so many reviews so quickly and it's that, that is keeping me writing :) Thank you so much. I ship Ron and Rose's relationship so hard and it's obvious in this chapter. I hope you like it. I really do. Your reviews are appreciated._**

**_I don't own Harry Potter_**

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**Educe**

_**To **__**draw **__**forth **__**or **__**bring **__**out, **__**as **__**something **__**potential **__**or **__**latent.**_

It was close to midday when Rose finally decided she was bored of flying. Although Ron was pleased she seemed to be so interested in something he loved, he had been wishing she would get over it and want to go inside.

Hermione had vanished pretty quickly after what he had said to her and as much as he had wanted to go and find her, he had refrained from doing so. He shouldn't have said what he did, but it had been building up inside him for days and her tears had just brought the words out.

He _was_ angry and the more he tried to deny that, the worse things would become. Hermione's flow of emotions had meant he hadn't been able to do the same. Someone had to be there for Rose. Now – and as much as he didn't want to – he resented her for it. And that resentment had caused him to say things he now regretted.

The living room was empty when he collapsed onto the couch and closed his eyes. He sighed heavily, feeling drained. It seemed so long ago that he had said goodbye to Hermione as she embarked on some holiday with his sister. So much had happened since.

When he opened his eyes again, a small face was peering at him. Rose. He smiled weakly at her, but she didn't smile back.

"You're sad too," she stated.

"Yeah, Rosie, I am." There was no point lying to her, she was a smart girl.

Rose climbed up to sit beside him. Her eyes never left him. He thought she was going to give him a lecture like she did, Hermione, but instead, she patted his hand comfortingly. And strangely, it did comfort him.

"Thank you," he said and this time she did smile.

"It's okay." She then sat her beloved book on her lap and opened it up on a page. She looked up at Ron hopefully.

"I should have guessed," he said, laughing. "Surely you know them all by now?"

Rose shook her head and pointed to a picture on one of the pages. "This one?"

Ron took the book from her, while Rose climbed into his lap. Anything to stop himself from feeling guilty over Hermione. "You're going to be like your mother and love books, aren't you?" he asked teasingly as Rose settled herself down. She nodded enthusiastically. Already, she had shown her love for all things academic.

"As long as you're in Gryffindor, I don't care what you like," he told her. She giggled. "Okay, so where are we up to?" he studied the page Rose had opened it up to. It was halfway through one of the stories.

Rose pointed to the picture again. "This one."

He went to flick back to the beginning of the story, but she stopped him, turning back to the page she had opened it on.

"It's in the middle of a story, Rosie," he said, but she shook her head, once again pointing to the picture. "Okay," he relented. "We will start from here."

Rose listened for the most part while he read to her – Ron thankful that he had read the story enough times to know what was happening – but stopped when he realised she had fallen asleep. She was slumped against his chest and her head was lolling to one side as her chest moved up and down evenly.

Ron did nothing except put the book aside. He held Rose in his arms, watching her sleep, envious of how peaceful she looked. Already she had forgotten the pain her parents were suffering. Such innocence.

"I wish I could be like her."

Ron turned his head to the side, careful not to wake Rose. Hermione was standing a short distance from the couch. She was hesitant to sit down.

"Don't we all," he replied, pressing his lips into Rose's red hair. He brushed a strand away from her face. "She doesn't know what pain or loss is. I wish it could stay like that forever. Then I would never have to worry for her."

"She will never know it like we do. Be thankful for that."

Hermione was right. Those times were over.

A silence filled the room, neither of them knowing what to say to the other. It felt strange, unnatural. It was very rare for them to have nothing to talk about. Eventually, Ron found the courage.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean it."

"Yes you did," Hermione replied, finally coming to sit beside him. "And I'm glad. You showed some emotion."

"I don't want you to leave, Hermione. I want you to stay here."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I need you. You're my distraction. Being there for you takes my mind off how I'm feeling. I don't want to feel anything."

Hermione looked at him and he could see her eyes glistening with tears once again. And he saw she was fighting desperately to not let him see. With his spare arm, he reached out and grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's okay to cry," he told her.

And finally his own tears fell. The tears he had been trying so desperately to keep at bay for so long finally came. There was too much pain for him to deal with alone. He never should have tried.

His love for Hermione and Rose and the pain at what he had lost had caused them. He couldn't remember feeling so much emotion since he had been forced to listen to Hermione's screams as Bellatrix Lestrange tortured her. Then, it had been fear that he would never get to see her again. Now, it was just pure and utter despair.

If someone came along right now and ripped Rose from his arms without him being able to see or hear her again, he'd feel the same. Pain and loss and despair.

But it felt good to let it go. And that it brought Hermione closer. All of a sudden – as she comforted him – she seemed more real. He really _did_ need Hermione. They needed each other. They felt each other's pain.

Maybe now, they could move on.

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	12. Bleb

**_Thanks again for all your awesome reviews. I love them. So this word gave me absolutely no inspiration what so ever and to all you fellow Australians who are reading this, I feel as if I went all "Packed to the Rafters" in this chapter. It sounds like something Nathan would talk/think about._**

**But anyway, wrong fandom... I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter. Except for the plot, I guess. Enjoy.**

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**Bleb**

_**A **__**bubble**_

It was like they were in their own little world; trapped inside a bubble that no one else could understand. They didn't understand what they were going through, or how they felt (even if they tried to).

It felt good to talk about it with Ron; it felt good to cry about it.

Knowing that they were both feeling the same thing, eased Hermione. Now that Ron had let go of his emotions, she didn't feel so alone. He was there and he knew how she was feeling.

And she knew how he was feeling. She understood better than anyone. It was painful, but at least now everything was out in the open.

Rose hadn't woken during the twenty minutes or so Ron had lost control. She slept peacefully in his arms, blissfully unaware of what had happened. Hermione was grateful for that. Rose didn't need to be brought into their bubble of grief. She was better off not understanding how either of them felt. She was happier.

Ron had never cried before. Not like that. He was more likely to get angry when he was upset. It was different to see, but it was also good to see. Anger wasn't the best thing to feel with something like what had happened to them.

Seeing him like that had made her realise that she had been wrong to even consider leaving, or escaping. He _did_ need her and she needed him.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently, after a long while. Rose still slept soundly. Good.

Ron nodded, but he didn't say anything. She wondered if he was embarrassed. He shouldn't have been.

"I told you," she continued, putting her arm across his back, comforting him. "But it was my fault you had to stay strong for so long. I distracted you. I'm sorry."

Ron shook his head. "I liked being distracted," he told her. "I liked not thinking about it."

"But you _were_ thinking about it. All the time. I know you were. And you couldn't do anything about it, because I wouldn't let you."

She knew she had apologised so many times already, but every time she did, she would just turn around and do the exact same thing again. It wasn't fair. He didn't deserve that. She should have allowed him to grieve.

"It's only been a week," Ron said.

Had it really only been a week? It felt like a lifetime of pain.

"It won't go away straight away," he added.

Again, Ron understood. He knew that things weren't going to repair themselves instantly. But neither of them had been prepared for this. This was pain even magic couldn't fix.

Family and friends could send them heartfelt messages, gifts, anything, but it would still be just the two of them who really understood. It was just them and their bubble.

"Are you still... do you still not want to...?" Ron trailed off, unable to finish what he wanted to say.

Hermione looked at him curiously.

"Have another baby?" the question was rushed. It was as if he was scared to ask her.

Hermione shook her head. She couldn't. She loved Rose, but one was enough. She wasn't going to put herself through that again. There was enough pain to last her a lifetime, maybe two.

"I can't," she said softly. "I can't go through this again."

Ron seemed disappointed. Was he prepared to feel what he was feeling again? Was he ready to go through that much pain once more, when they already had Rose? Maybe she was on her own for this one.

"I'm not talking about right now. Not even in a year. Just... some time." He looked down at Rose, tightening his arms around her.

Hermione watched them silently, feeling guilty. Did she really have the right to deny him what he wanted? He was good with Rose; he loved her. She had never seen him love anything or anyone else like he loved Rose. It was like the two of them had their own bubble that she wasn't apart of.

"May-maybe one day," she said, unsure. She doubted she would ever feel ready to go through that again.

Ron didn't look convinced, but he didn't say anything else. It was like he realised the best he could do was hope she would change her mind.

And who knew, maybe she would, but she highly doubted that.

At tap at the window stopped any further discussion. An owl Hermione recognised as Harry's was sitting on the sill, a letter attached to his foot. She walked over to him and opened the window, taking the letter.

The owl hooted once and then disappeared.

"What does he want?" Ron asked.

Hermione glanced over the letter, before smiling. "'James and Al are wondering where Rose is. They've been waiting all day for her to come over. Is everything okay?'" Once again, someone who didn't understand was trying to understand.

"Should I give them the bad news?" she asked, watching Rose. She hadn't stirred.

"No, I will," Ron said. He got to his feet, before lying Rose back on the couch. He then took the letter from Hermione and disappeared upstairs. He obviously had something important to tell Harry that he didn't want her to see. She just hoped that he wasn't going to let Harry into their bubble. He didn't belong in there.

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	13. Mettle

**_This word just fitted in so perfectly with this chapter I actually cheered when I saw what it was. Please let me know how you think this story is progressing. What you would like to see, what you hope will happen. And most importantly, please leave a review. I love reviews :)_**

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

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**Mettle**

_**Courage **__**and **__**fortitude.**_

"It will be fine. I promise. I'm okay."

"You might need more time."

"It's been two weeks."

"That's not long enough."

It had been the same argument between them for the last four days, ever since Ron had told Hermione he wanted to go back to work. She had been against it straight away, but he suspected that was more to do with the fact that she was going to be left alone than worrying about how he was going to cope.

Truthfully, he didn't want to have to face the sympathy everyone would give him, or the special treatment he knew he would receive, but he wanted to go back to work so things would feel normal again. He was sick of moping around, feeling sorry for himself. Their loss still hurt, but he needed to move on.

Hermione, of course wouldn't even contemplate it. He wondered when she was going to feel up to going back. He didn't think it would be anytime soon. She had taken what had happened harder than he had. She had been more emotional about it from the beginning.

She still wasn't coping.

"I'll survive ," he promised her. "Harry said the Auror Office isn't coping without me," he added, half humorously.

"He only said that so you would come back," Hermione argued. She had no pity. Just determination for him to stay at home with her.

"You mean, you don't believe him?" He smiled. He knew Hermione spoke the truth. His absence from the Ministry would have made absolutely no difference.

"No, I didn't mean... are you sure you want to do this?"

Ron smiled, kissing her cheek as a goodbye (he was still too scared to kiss her properly after feeling nothing last time.) "I love you. I'll be okay."

Of course he didn't _want_ to. He just knew he had to.

"You're braver than I am," Hermione replied softly. Her eyes darted to the floor. Despite finally being able to talk about how they were feeling, she would still occasionally revert back into a state where her eyes filled with pain and tears and he knew she was thinking about it again.

They were always thinking about it.

"I'm not brave, just determined," Ron told her. And that was true. Every part of him wanted to stay at home and to never see the outside world again. But they couldn't live like that. There was no point.

"Well... say hi to them all for me, then," Hermione sighed, obviously coming to the conclusion that she wasn't going to be able to change his mind. He could tell she still didn't want him to go; to leave her.

"I will. I love you and I will see you later, okay?"

Hermione nodded weakly and swallowed. "Okay."

"Bye, daddy," Rose said as she flung her tiny arms around his waist. "I'll miss you."

"See you, Rosie. I'll miss you too," Ron replied, also kissing her cheek. This felt normal. This is what used to happen.

Before Hermione could change her mind again, he Disapparated, appearing moments later inside the Auror Office at the Ministry. He was greeted by Harry, who smiled warmly at him.

"I wasn't sure if you had changed your mind," he said. Once again, he seemed unsure of what he should say to them. Harry never was one to understand how Ron was feeling. It had always been like that. They liked it that way.

"Hermione didn't want me to go, but... but I did."

"Is she okay?" Harry asked. He and Ginny had stayed away from them for a while; upon Ron's request. He thought not having them around all the time and constantly asking Hermione if she was okay would help her to move on faster. He didn't think it had worked, though. She really wasn't any better.

Ron shook his head. "I don't know. She's talking now, but it's obvious she's still really upset about it all."

"And so she should be," Harry said.

There was an uncomfortable silence between them and Ron wasn't sure why. Harry was his best friend; they had been best friends since they were eleven. Things shouldn't have been awkward. What had happened had nothing to do with him.

Eventually, Harry spoke again, "Ginny said Hermione thinks you still blame her. You don't, do you?"

Ron had had no idea Hermione was talking to Ginny. He had thought she was too depressed to communicate with anyone. But maybe Ginny understood things in a way he couldn't. Maybe she came with a comfort he couldn't provide.

The idea warmed him slightly.

"No, I don't," he answered Harry's question. " I don't blame her. I never did. Not really. I was just..."

"Hurting?" Harry suggested.

Ron nodded once. "Yeah. And angry." He was angry that it had happened. He was angry that so much pain existed and that he was feeling it. But most of all, he was angry that his child had been taken from him. How was that fair?

Thankfully, another potential awkward silence was interrupted by Kingsley barging into the Office, a huge grin on his face. He held out his hand in welcome, which Ron accepted. He liked Kingsley. He had a way of seeing the bright side of things, even if no one else could.

_Maybe I should send him Hermione's way_, he thought.

"You're back!" he exclaimed obviously. "Welcome. Things haven't been the same without you."

Ron highly doubted things had changed at all, but he accepted the compliment anyway.

"Well, your absence for two weeks has left a great pile of unanswered letters," Kingsley continued as if Ron was coming back from a holiday. He didn't seem to consider that he was only there because he felt like he _had_ to be. Ron wanted nothing more than to go home and be with Hermione and Rose.

"Great," he complained, staring at the mountainous pile of letters. Did they really get that many in two weeks? Why hadn't someone else answered them?

_You can do this_, he reassured himself, although the idea of reading letters from people who _thought_ there was someone in their house, or they were being attacked by a non-existent Dark wizard didn't really appeal to him. They didn't know what fear was.

"It's good to have you back," Kingsley repeated, before vanishing from the Office, probably in pursuit of someone else to boss around.

"I can do it if you like," Harry said sympathetically. "I probably should have done it earlier. But, we were kind of busy."

Ron shook his head. "No, it's okay. Most will probably go unanswered anyway and I will throw them away. And I can't wait to see what near death stories Marcus Wills has to tell us this week."

Harry laughed. "He was nearly attacked by a four-headed, six-legged cat last week. A flesh eating one at that."

Ron laughed too. This was how he used to spend his days working, before he had lost so much. Laughing at the things people would do, laughing with Harry. Other times, Hermione would come to see them. He missed those times. Her missed Hermione.

Even though he laughed and even though he smiled, underneath he still felt the strong, heartbreaking pain that would probably never disappear.

But he needed to put on a brave face. Even if it felt wrong.

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	14. Conciliate

**_Thanks once again for the reviews. Your words really do encourage me to keep writing this. They inspire me. When I first saw this word, I originally had another idea of what I was going to write, but then this is what it turned into. I really like it. Please leave a review and let me know what you think._**

**_ I don't own Harry Potter._**

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**Conciliate**

_**To **__**overcome **__**the **__**distrust **__**or **__**hostility **__**of; **__**placate; **__**win**__**over.**_

_I can't do it. I can't go through it again. _

Hermione picked up a photo frame with a baby photo of Rose. It had been sitting in the same spot in the living room ever since she had put it there, almost two years ago.

She had been so happy back then. Rose; her little Rose. So small and innocent, only a few days old in that photo. She hadn't even considered that two years later, something she had been so happy about would cause her so much pain. Something she loved more than anything else in the world.

There was nothing that she could see happening to change her mind. She couldn't have another baby. There was just no way she was willing to put herself through that again. Ron argued that it probably wouldn't happen again, but she wasn't going to take the risk. It was something she wasn't going to change her mind about. He would just have to accept that.

How he had found the courage to go back to work so soon and then come home, looking happier each day, she had no idea. Before, she was able to see his pain and how much it hurt to even think about it, but now – almost a month after it happened – she barely saw any memory of it on his face.

Of course, that wasn't true. He still felt it, but he had somehow managed put it behind him. He was there for Rose, when she couldn't be. He was able to spend hours without thinking about it, when she thought about it every minute of every single day. She admired him for it. She couldn't do it. She just couldn't let it go. It hurt too much.

She wasn't sure if there would ever be a time she'd want to start working again. It hurt just as much to try and let go. It felt wrong.

With a heavy sigh, she placed the frame back where it belonged and turned, only to find Ron standing behind her, watching her. He had a look of concern on his face. Hermione couldn't remember the last time he had looked at her in any other way.

She had given him no reason to be anything but concerned.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "Just thinking."

She hadn't been much of a mother to Rose the past month. Maybe it was about time she started putting in an effort again. She owed Rose more than that.

Ron didn't say anything. He merely took her in his arms – like he had done so many times before – and held her. He was such a comfort at times and then other times, she couldn't bring herself to be so close to him. She was thankful that it was one of the times she wanted him there.

In fact, she _needed_ him there.

She felt him kiss her forehead and she didn't retreat. She had no desire to. That was a good thing, wasn't it? Every other attempt he had made to repair their relationship, she had pushed him away. Ever since that failed kiss, she had been scared. She hadn't known what it meant.

But as he kissed her then, she felt a familiar, warm sensation grow inside her. It gave her hope. Maybe all wasn't lost after all.

Moving away from him just slightly, she looked at him straight in the eye. No, there was definitely still pain in there, but it wasn't apparent. It was more concern for her. She was no better, where he had taken a step forward.

Like she was wondering how he could move on so quickly, he was probably wondering why she wasn't.

"I'm okay," she assured him again and this time she actually meant it. His arms around her made her feel something she hadn't felt in the last month. She was actually feeling something other than pain.

She was feeling love. Love for Ron and love for Rose.

With a small amount of courage, she kissed Ron, still terrified she would feel nothing. But something stirred inside of her; something she had been missing for a month. She felt it and she knew he did too.

It was like something washed over her in that moment. Something that wasn't grief, but... happiness. Pure happiness. Maybe it would only last a few moments, but it didn't matter. It felt good to feel something other than pain. She had forgotten how good it felt to be with Ron.

Ron smiled at her, looking relieved. She was different. She felt different and perhaps she looked different too. She returned the smile, this time knowing it was genuine.

"You look... happy," Ron said, almost as if he couldn't believe it. "I haven't seen you this happy in a very long time."

"I feel happy," she replied. "Something's changed. You made it change."

That was all she needed. She had needed time to grieve, but she certainly didn't need to push Ron away in the meantime. That was a stupid thing to do. Everything she felt for him was still there; it had just been pushed away, somewhere, where it could be found later. And used when she needed it the most, or when she was ready for it again.

Pain still filled her every thought, every part of her (who knew when that would ease), but it was less obvious. Somehow, _he_ had managed to convince her things would be okay. She believed that now. Things would get better.

The warm feeling inside of her grew with that thought.

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	15. Birr

**_Sorry for such a short chapter, but I am actually pleased with how this one turned out, considering it gave me very little inspiration. But... the tennis season is over now (it takes over my life in January), so hopefully I can focus more on this. _**

**Thanks once again for your amazing reviews. I love them so much. **

**I don't own any Harry Potter.**

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**Birr**

_**Force; energy; vigour.**_

It was like Hermione had been drained of life and then all of a sudden, someone had put it back in her. It had happened so suddenly. One moment, she had been staring at a photo of Rose with a look of complete despair on her face and the next moment, she was smiling, laughing even.

She was kissing him. The passion was back. She had life in her eyes again. There was life in _her_ again.

Ron had never felt so relieved. It was like he being there, comforting her, had regenerated her hope and desire that had been missing for weeks. It had been missing from both of them.

"I love you," he said quietly, kissing her once more. It felt good to have all of her back again. Even if it only lasted a few hours, she was back.

And now that she was filled with life again, he hoped it meant that she would slowly become the Hermione he had known for most of his life. He liked that Hermione better, even if she was bossier.

"Kiss me again," was her only reply. Ron obeyed. So much passion. Like it used to be; when he had said goodbye to her, when he had kissed her on their wedding day. Their first kiss.

It was like they were both all of a sudden filled with a new energy. One that he didn't think would ever come back. This was what happiness felt like. He remembered now. This was what it had been like _before_ they had lost so much.

They had been happy, just them and Rose. He had almost completely forgotten about those times.

"Why are we laughing?" Hermione questioned after a long moment, breaking away.

Ron had been too caught up in the moment to even realise. He was just glad she wasn't crying. He rested his hands on either arm, looking her right in the eyes. "Because we deserve to," he told her firmly. He held her closer to him again. "We deserve to be happy."

It was the truth. What had happened to them had been horrible – he would never forget – but they didn't deserve to be in so much pain over it. It was good to have a different kind of force over them. It was a positive force, one that made them happy.

Ron kissed her again, revelling in the fact that his love for her hadn't disappeared, like he had been afraid of. He hadn't spoken of it and, he had barely thought about it, but he had been scared that what had happened had caused their relationship to fall apart.

It was a comfort to know that that wasn't the case.

"Just keep smiling," he whispered into her ear, almost begging her. He didn't want her sudden happiness to go away. He liked it when she was happy. It made him happy.

Hermione nodded, determination written all over her face. "I will try," she answered sincerely. "But..."

"I know," Ron replied, before she could continue. He understood. Keeping a brave face all of the time wasn't going to be as easy as they hoped. There would still be times where there would be great sadness and more pain.

But things were finally looking up. There was new life in both of them; one that was pushing away the pain they had been feeling for the past month.

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	16. Hotchpot

**_Who would have thought that the word I looked at, yelled at, gaped at and stared blankly at a screen for half an hour for, would eventually be the same word to inspire a massive plot bunny? I hope you enjoy._**

**_I don't own any Harry Potter._**

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**Hotchpot**

_**The **__**bringing **__**together **__**of **__**shares **__**or **__**properties **__**in **__**order **__**to **__**divide **__**them **__**equally.**_

"Ron," Hermione began slowly. How was she going to do this? She had to be smart about it, otherwise she would have no way of convincing him. Things had just started to sort themselves out – in their relationship and their lives. Was it fair to disrupt that so soon?

Ron looked at her with a quizzical expression. It was obvious he was expecting her to tell him something bad. It seemed he only expected bad news from her these days. Ever since she had told him what had happened after she had taken the Portkey to Paris.

And who knew, maybe this _was_ bad news.

"I-I – " she clutched a letter in her hand; one that had arrived by Muggle post earlier that morning. It was from her mother. " – I have some news. We, I mean, _I_ have inherited some land from a great uncle of mine who recently passed away. Well, mum did, actually, but she has no use for it. She's offered it to us."

"Land?" Ron asked, clearly confused.

"He... he had a bit of money," Hermione answered, cautious. _Be smart_, _Hermione_.

"And why do we need it?" Ron continued.

"Well, I thought it would be nice to... build a house there, or something. It's quite a long way from any Muggles, you know. And it's empty. We wouldn't have to be as careful in what kind of magic we use, like we do here."

Ever since they had moved into a Muggle street, Ron had constantly complained about the lack of freedom he had to use spells whenever he felt like it, or how he had to pick specific places to Apparate to. But she knew he liked it here. It had become their home. And Rose had made friends with the neighbours.

But she couldn't help but think that moving would be a good idea.

"Oh, you... you don't like it here?"

Hermione shook her head, feeling a pang of guilt at Ron's reaction. It had taken a lot of persuasion in the first place to get him to move here and he had tried really hard to find a nice place for them. He had searched devotedly for months for the perfect home.

"I love it here," she promised. "It's just... it seems too good an offer to turn down." They could start afresh, forget all the painful memories that were connected to this place and live somewhere that would suit their lifestyle better; their wizarding lifestyle.

It seemed perfect.

Ron didn't say anything for a long time. He absently twirled his wand in the air, sending random sparks out at times. Eventually, he looked at her again and shook his head. "I like it here," he said.

"We live so secretly here, Ron."

"It was your idea in the first place!"

"I know. I thought it would work, but it doesn't. You've said it yourself many times. We can't be who we are here. There... we can be."

Ron shook his head again. Why did he have to be so stubborn sometimes? "Rose likes it here," he argued.

"You always have to bring her into it, don't you?" Hermione snapped. She hadn't meant for her suggestion to turn into an argument – it was the very thing she had been trying to avoid – but she couldn't help but get frustrated with his determination to not even consider it. "She's not even two. She won't even remember."

"So you've already made a decision, have you?" Ron demanded.

"No, that's why I'm asking you!"

"But you're not taking my opinion seriously. You're asking me because you think you have to, when really, you've already made up your mind. I grew up in the same place my whole life and I was fine."

"I can't wake up here every morning with the knowledge that this is where... there are too many bad memories here," Hermione concluded.

"And what about all the good ones?" Ron asked. He didn't even sound angry with her. He was upset; he was hurt that she could so easily forget everything about this place.

But she would never forget. Ron was right. There were so many good memories they shared, but the bad ones were more powerful. They had a hold over her that she didn't want them to have. But she wasn't strong enough to fight them.

With unshed tears threatening to fall, she clasped his hand in hers. "I love it here, Ron. I really do. And I know we will be taking Rose away from her friends and a place that is familiar to her, but don't you think she would be better off in a place where she can be herself? What will happen when her magic starts to show? If she has Muggle friends, they're going to think she's strange; different. They will tease her. Is that fair? It happened to me."

"But you didn't know. She will. She will know why she's different, she will understand." Ron spoke with such tenderness that it almost made Hermione retract her question.

_No_, she told herself firmly. _You have to at least try_.

"It isn't fair to make her keep a secret like that. You know it isn't."

For a moment, she thought she may have changed Ron's mind, but once again, he shook his head. "It would feel like we're running away from our problems. I don't want to do that. I've done that before and you only end up regretting it."

Hermione wondered what 'problem' Ron was thinking about, but she decided not to ask. She didn't need to know.

"It's not running away. It's a... fresh start."

"We have a life here, Hermione. I'm not about to give that up. Not even for some dead great uncle I've never heard you mention before. You don't want to have another baby and I don't want to move. Can we call it even?"

"You won't even consider it?" she tried again, this time desperate.

"You won't even consider having another baby?" was Ron's only response.

Hermione sighed. He was right. How could she ask him to do something like that for her, when she was too afraid to even consider what he wanted? When had she become so selfish?

And when had Ron become so selfless? Every decision he made at the moment, he made for Rose. Only because _she_ was too concerned with her own problems.

"Anyway," Ron continued when it was clear she wasn't going to pursue her argument. "Why did your mum inherit this... _land_?"

Hermione shrugged. "She was just as surprised as I was."

"You've never spoken of him before."

"That's because I didn't really know he existed," Hermione confessed. "He had a lot and just distributed it evenly amongst all these family members."

Ron shook his head in disbelief. She heard him mutter something along the line of "Muggles" under his breath.

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	17. Neoterism

**_Thanks to all the reviews and favourites and alerts. And a special thanks to those who have done a bit of both. I hope you enjoy this new chapter._**

**I don't own any Harry Potter. **

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**Neoterism**

_**An **__**innovation **__**in **__**language, **__**as **__**a **__**new **__**word, **__**term, **__**or **__**expression.**_

Ron loved being Rose's dad. He loved it more than anything else in the whole world. _His Rosie_. She was the only thing that truly belonged to him – something he would never have to share with his siblings; something no one could ever take from him.

She belonged to him and he liked it that way.

And her love for books and learning and her desire for him to _always_ read to her warmed every inch of him – inside and out. She was always asking questions, her eyes burning with a fiery curiosity which made him feel as if he had no choice but to answer her. She was always wanting to learn new things; to understand what they meant.

Other times, she would make statements – and use words – that were beyond her years. It constantly amazed him and made him love her even more (if that were even possible).

But for once in his life, he had no answer, no reply for the question she had posed to them over breakfast. Even Hermione – the walking encyclopaedia for wizards _and_ Muggles – sat there, staring blankly at their not-even-two-year-old-daughter.

"That's why you want to move, isn't it?" Rose repeated, her innocent eyes focusing on Hermione.

"Who-who told you that, Rosie?" Hermione asked weakly, her breakfast in front of her, forgotten.

"David," Rose replied. David was a Muggle boy who lived down the street from them. He was a few years older than Rose, but a friend all the more. Rose had spent the previous afternoon at his place.

"Rosie, that... that isn't true, okay," Hermione said shakily. "Don't listen to what he tells you."

Ron didn't say anything. He couldn't. Rose was still learning. She was going to believe anything she was told.

"What exactly did he say?" Hermione continued.

Rose turned to Ron, a hint of resentment in her eyes. "That when his mummy wanted to move house, it was 'cause she didn't want to be married to his dad anymore. He said that was why you want to move."

How Rose had found out about Hermione wanting to move, Ron had no idea. But their argument over it had been pretty loud. She could have overheard. What upset him more, was that they had obviously given Rose some reason to believe what her friend had said to her.

Hermione looked to him, asking the silent question of what they should do. Rose was still watching Ron as if it was his fault. And to her, it probably was. His little Rosie was angry with him. That was worse than Hermione being angry with him.

"Di...di...sauce," Rose stated plainly. Ron guessed she was trying to say 'divorce'.

That word hardly ever came up in the wizarding world. It was new to her, especially to someone so young. There was nothing Ron wanted more than to take Rose in his arms and promise her until she believed him that that wasn't going to happen. But he didn't speak.

"That is not why I want to move, Rose," Hermione emphasised desperately. "People move for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes they just like a change of scenery, other people have to move because they can't afford to live where they are anymore... and sometimes people would just like to forget about bad things that have happened to them."

The nature of this conversation was unsettling Ron. It was not the type of thing he felt comfortable discussing with Rose, especially over breakfast. She was too young.

"And 'cause they want to _di-sauce_," Rose added sadly.

"Y-yes, sometimes that is the reason, but it's not my reason."

"So we will move house?" Rose then said, enthusiasm replacing worry.

Ron felt Hermione's eyes on her, but he stared determinedly at the morning's _Prophet_, pretending to read a story on a supposed corruption within the Ministry. He pretended to not have heard.

"No, sweetheart. We're staying here."

"But you're sad here," Rose continued.

_Please stop, Rose_, Ron silently begged, still very interested in the stupid article.

"No, I'm very happy here."

Ron knew that was a lie. Hermione was anything but happy here. That realisation sparked a pang of guilt he didn't want to feel. One he had been trying not to feel after seeing the disappointment on her face when he had told her he wasn't going to move.

She was upset and she was in pain. He hated seeing Hermione like that. He'd do anything to stop her feeling those things. But this was different. He couldn't part with a place he had come to love. And he loved it because of her. How could she not see that?

"No you're not, mummy. You're sad. You still miss the angel baby."

Innocence and not understanding the extent of Hermione's pain made Rose speak with such sincerity. She was only pointing out what she saw. She still had a lot of learning to do.

"Rose, how about you go to your room and get dressed? Can you do that?" Ron tried to speak with gentleness, but Rose knew that it wasn't up for discussion. He never called her Rose unless it was a serious matter. And this was a serious matter. He could sense Hermione was on the verge of tears again.

Without another word, she climbed down from her chair and soon, her tiny footsteps could be heard going slowly up the stairs.

Finally, Ron looked at Hermione. She gave him a cold stare – one he hadn't seen from her in a long time.

"Do you really want to know why I don't want to leave this place?" he asked calmly; gently.

Hermione's expression didn't soften. "Because you want me to suffer." She didn't mean it, he knew that. She wanted him to feel guilty. She knew how much he loved her; she had always known. Perhaps even before he had.

"No," he said. "We may have one bad memory from here, but there are so many more good ones which outnumber it. This is the place we came home to after we were married, this is the place we have brought our daughter up in. This is the place for _us_. I don't care that we are surrounded by Muggles, I don't care that we have to be careful with what kind of magic we use, or have to hide a lot of our things when Rose has friends over. None of that bothers me. Not when the best things in life are you and Rose. Us, Hermione. That's all that matters." He waved a hand absently around the room. "This is us. Not some silly house in the middle of nowhere, on a block of land owned by some long lost relative of yours."

Hermione watched him blankly for a few moments, until finally, her cold stare changed into a smile. "How Rose could ever think I would want to _di-sauce _you is beyond me."

Ron laughed. Their Rosie was an inspiration to them all.

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	18. Idoneous

**_Wow! Thank you so much to everyone who favourited, reviewed and alerted in the past 24 hours. Wow! I found this word quite frustrating to work with, but it is another one that 100% inspired where I went with it. I hope you enjoy. And leave a review if you can!_**

**_I don't own anything Harry Potter._**

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******Idoneous**

_**Appropriate; **__**fit; **__**suitable; **__**apt.**_

_To Mrs Hermione Weasley,_

_It is my understanding that you have recently suffered a personal affliction that has made you unable to return to work. Although I send my deepest sympathies and I am truly sorry for your loss, I am under the instruction to inform you that you have two weeks in which you are to notify us if you will be returning to your position here at the Ministry of Magic. If you do not respond, or choose not to return, your position will be given to someone else._

_Once again, I send my apologies._

_Sincerely,_

_Frances Prince,_

_Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

"They can't do that!" Ron exclaimed, snatching the letter from Hermione's hand. "They can't just kick you out. After everything you have done for them. Kingsley is going to let this happen, is he?"

"I don't think he has a say," Hermione answered calmly. "And they're not kicking me out. They're giving me a choice."

Ron didn't appear to have heard. "Of course he has a bloody say! He's the Minister for Magic! I will go to him myself and make him see sense. He knows what you're going through. He can't do this!"

"Ron," Hermione said, her calmness in this matter clearly irritating Ron. It was like he wanted her to be angry over it. But she couldn't find the strength. She had no desire to be angry, or upset. In fact, she felt rather relieved. "I've been thinking. I don't know if I want to go back."

Ron stared at her with a blank expression. "That's crazy. You love your job."

"I did, but I just feel no enthusiasm to go back. I don't want to face everyone. I like being here, Ron. In the comfort of our home, where there are no sympathetic looks or questions like 'are you okay?' or 'how are you feeling?' every five seconds." Although, that wasn't quite true. Ron had gotten into a habit of asking her things like that whenever he felt she was going to revert back into her depressed state.

"That's why they can't give you two weeks to decide!" Ron exclaimed. "It's ridiculous. You need more time."

"They need someone to do the job," Hermione argued. "They've been kind enough to hold it off for this long. I won't be ready to go back in two weeks. They may as well train someone else up to do it."

Ron gaped at her, a look of complete and utter shock on his face. He wasn't used to her saying things like that. He had always seen her as the type of person to put things like work and study above anything else. He thought that was what she valued most.

And maybe she had once upon a time ago. But after what had happened to them; after feeling more pain than she ever wanted to feel in a lifetime, she had realised that there were actually more important things than where her career would take her.

There were things like her daughter. Her little Rose. Rose was more important than her stupid job. So was Ron. Although neither of them was close to feeling happy again, they were in a content place right now. What they were doing was working for them. She didn't want to ruin that.

"You've lost your mind," Ron said bluntly.

"Thanks," Hermione scowled at him.

"Well, this isn't like you at all."

"Things have changed, Ron. I wouldn't have the passion to continue with it like I used to. I believe they could find someone else more suitable for the job. Someone who actually _wants_ to be there."

"You're the best they've got, Hermione. I've heard them say it. They won't be happy if you leave."

Hermione shrugged. She couldn't go back to work. Even now – one month later – it felt too soon. Her mental state would never permit for her to continue. Working for the Magical Law Enforcement just didn't suit her anymore. She was much happier spending her days at home, with her daughter.

But Ron couldn't seem accept her decision, just like he couldn't accept her decision to move. "I'll-I'll talk to Kingsley and see if he can give you a few more weeks. Maybe then, you might feel more up to going back." There was tenderness in his voice. He actually cared. He genuinely cared whether or not she returned to work.

She didn't have the heart to tell him that her decision was final. She had made up her mind weeks ago. "Thank you," was all she said.

"For now, I guess I will just work harder. I'll work a few hours longer each day," Ron continued, turning off into his own train of thought.

"You don't have to do that," Hermione said. "We're okay. Everything's okay."

Ron shook his head. "I won't have Rosie growing up like I did. I want her to be able to have everything she wants."

"And she will," Hermione assured him, placing her hands on his shoulders to calm him. He was worrying over nothing. He seemed to do a lot of that lately. "We will be okay. I promise you."

"I hope you're right," was all he said, but he didn't look convinced. Instead, he looked at her with a longing in his eyes; one that told her he missed her. She missed him too; she missed the way things used to be.

She loved him.

So, why had she only just realised how much, now? Perhaps it was the burning desire in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat, or maybe two.

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	19. Doyenne

**_This word kind of just fitted in perfectly. I was rather pleased. Thanks for the reviews. I love hearing your opinion. I hope you enjoy this chapter._**

**_I don't own Harry Potter._**

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**Doyenne**

_**A **__**woman **__**who **__**is **__**the **__**senior **__**member **__**of **__**a **__**group, **__**class, **__**or **__**profession.**_

_How could they do this? _Ron was absolutely furious with the Ministry for forcing Hermione to make a decision. It wasn't fair. She had done so much for them, helped every single person who worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in one way or another and that was how they repaid her? By giving her two weeks to make a decision about her whole future?

Hermione was still grieving. She was nowhere near ready to go back, but he knew she would want to eventually. He couldn't bear the thought of her not returning to work one day. It just wasn't Hermione. But then again, not much she did these days was the Hermione he had once known. Everything about her had changed.

And not all of it was for the better.

"Hey, mate," Harry greeted him cheerfully when he came into the Auror Office the next day. He was sorting through a small pile of parchment, clearly looking for something.

"Hey," Ron replied quietly. He was still fuming, even a day later.

Harry must have picked up on his tone, because he stopped what he was doing and turned to his friend. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

"They've given Hermione two weeks for her to decide whether or not she wants to come back to work," Ron answered sourly. "How can they do that? After everything she has been through... this is just one more thing to add to it. It's not fair!"

"I... did hear about that," Harry said cautiously. "But I also heard that Hermione responded and told them she was not planning on returning."

"She what?" Ron choked. This was the first he had heard of it. Officially, anyway.

"You didn't know?"

"I kn-knew she didn't want to go back, but I thought it was just... did she really tell them that?"

Harry nodded sympathetically, pointing in the direction of the door. "I just heard one of them talking about it just a few moments ago."

"This is _all their fault_," Ron seethed, his temper rising. It wasn't fair. Hermione didn't deserve this. "I'm going to talk to that stupid Head of Department woman and make sure she gives Hermione's job back to her right now!"

"I don't know if there's much you can do if Hermione's told them she's leaving," Harry said.

But Ron ignored him. Hermione wasn't thinking clearly at the moment. Surely they would know that. She was grieving for their child. Even if she gave the impression she was okay, Ron knew she wasn't. There were still many times where he would look at her and see the sadness in her eyes; see that she was thinking about it.

There were many times he would catch her wiping away tears.

He stormed from the Auror Office despite Harry's protests, grunting short hello's to anyone who spoke to him and made his way to Hermione's department. It wasn't that far from his own office, but it still wasn't short enough. He was pestered by two trainee Aurors, his brother, Percy and three others he didn't even know the names of.

Had they not learnt in the past few weeks since he had gone back that he was in no mood to deal with trivial issues such as there's? There were more important things for him to deal with; things such as getting Hermione her job back.

"Where's that Prince woman?" he demanded icily to the secretary once he reached the department.

"_Mrs_ Prince is in her office. She has asked not to be disturbed. Can I take a message?"

"I want to see her!" Ron ordered. "I want to see her now!"

"I'm sorry, I can't – "

"I don't care what you can and can't do, I want to see her. Now."

Ron couldn't remember the last time he had lost his temper like this. It had been a while. He had found ways to control it, especially around Rose. He hated being anything but calm around her. He loved her too much to scare her, or to be the reason she burst into tears.

But he was too angry with everything right now to care.

The secretary – who was no older than nineteen – looked absolutely terrified by his outburst. Ron didn't care about that either, even though scaring her hadn't been his intention.

"I'll s-see w-what I can do," she stammered, before hurrying away.

After she had vanished, a _tut-tutting_ came from above her desk, where a portrait of a middle-aged man was hanging. He was watching Ron with narrowed eyes.

"A temper like that could very well give you a few months in Azkaban," he scolded.

Ron scowled. "Who are you?" he demanded furiously. He was in no mood for a portrait to give him a lecture. Especially one who thought losing his temper at a lousy secretary could send him to Azkaban.

"Who _am_ I?" he sounded offended. "Well, I am the second most respected man of the seventeenth century for my findings in – "

Thankfully the secretary returned and Ron didn't have to regret asking the question. She still looked terrified of him.

"I-I told Mrs Prince that the husband of Hermione Weasley was here to see her. She-she told me to let you in."

"Er – thanks," Ron said. He didn't say much else, his temper residing slightly. He would apologise to her later. For now, the most important thing was getting Hermione her job back. She would thank him for it one day.

He opened the door to the office, expecting to see a woman dressed in the finest witch's robes, with greying hair and glasses. But instead, he was greeted by a baby-faced witch, with lengthy blonde hair, sitting beside Hermione.

Ron could have sworn his heart stopped for a moment after seeing Hermione. She was looking at him with absolute loathing – nothing compared to the look she had given him the night before.

But she didn't seem surprised. She knew him too well.

"Hi," he said uncertainly.

Hermione didn't say anything. She turned away from him, choosing to stare out the window instead. Any anger he may have felt moments ago subsided when he had seen Hermione. Now he was filled with guilt. Again.

"You can't just accept my decision, can you?" she said coldly, looking anywhere but him. He wondered if she was going to start crying again.

"I would if I knew it was really what you wanted," he replied without venom. He couldn't be mad at her. Not when she was mad at him.

"This _is_ what I want!" Hermione cried. "I want to spend time with Rose. More time with Rose. She's what's important. We can't just keep sending her over for Ginny to look after her every day. Or your mum. She's _our_ daughter! Our only daughter."

Ron refrained from saying he knew Rose loved spending time with Ginny and her cousins. That would just set Hermione off again.

"Then... then if that's what's bothering you, I will stay with Rose," he said instead. "I'll spend time with her. I will, Hermione. I swear I will."

"And stop doing something you love?" Hermione questioned.

"I love Rose more."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't want to be here anymore. You do."

"She's made up her mind, I'm afraid," Frances Prince said. "I've already tried talking her out of it."

Ron glared at her. She may have been the Head of Department, but she had no idea about what they were going through. She had no idea what Hermione was going through. Even he didn't know that.

"Just go," Hermione said tearfully. "I'll-I'll see you when you get home."

Ron didn't know what to do. He left the office, though something was telling him it was the wrong thing. He should have tried to talk her around more. Despite what she said, or how she felt now, he knew that one day, Hermione was going to regret this decision.

She loved working at the Ministry. And the Ministry loved her.

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	20. Peroration

**_Thanks again for the reviews and I really hope you like this chapter. It kind of made me a bit sad to write._**

**I don't own any Harry Potter.**

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**Peroration**

_**A **__**long **__**speech **__**characterised **__**by **__**lofty **__**and **__**often **__**pompous **__**language.**_

"Why can't you just leave me alone, Ron? Why do you have to constantly try and fix things? You _always_ end up making things worse! I. Don't. Want. To. Go. Back. To. Work. Can you understand that?"

Ron didn't answer. He just stood where he was, allowing Hermione to yell at him, to scream at him, say whatever she wanted to say. He gave no indication that he wanted to yell back. It seemed he didn't want to do anything, actually.

It just made Hermione angrier. It made everything seem more real. This wasn't how things were supposed to be happening. They weren't supposed to be fighting, they weren't supposed to be feeling like a part of them was missing. They were supposed to be happy. Together.

"I don't need you interfering in my life," she continued. "I decided to leave. Accept it and get over it. _Please_ get over it."

Ron still didn't say anything. Why wasn't he talking, yelling?

"Say something!" she demanded.

Silence.

"Fine!" she relented. "If you're not going to say anything to me – not even apologise – then next time you try to get into the house, you mightn't find it so easy!" she left him where he was, staring wide-eyed and shocked after her. She locked the bedroom door.

There were moments when she wanted nothing more than to be close to him, to have him comfort her. Like the night before. They had been together for the first time since her leaving for Paris. It had been the first time in a month. It had been nice.

But then there were times like this where she didn't want anyone near her. She couldn't bare their pity, their sympathy. This was all her fault. Every single part of it was her fault.

She felt like she did because she had been too stubborn to listen to Ron's warnings. She _had_ to be right. But she had been wrong.

Their relationship was not going smoothly because of her; because she refused to let things settle. She didn't want to smooth things over. That would mean being more aware of the aching pain inside her that just wouldn't go away. The pain of loss.

It was easier to fight with Ron. That way she could focus all her energy on being angry with him. It was a lot simpler than dealing with her pain.

Rose had barely spoken to her all day. That was her fault too. She barely acknowledged her daughter existed these days. She didn't deserve to be the mother of someone like Rose. Rose deserved someone better; someone like Ron. He was feeling pain too, yet he found a way to spend as much time with Rose as possible.

He deserved to have Rose in his life.

Yesterday she had been feeling better. Today, it was like it had only just happened again. She wanted nothing more than to curl up on the bed and never have to speak to anyone again.

That would be the easy thing to do. So simple.

She wished life was simple again. She wished she had never gone on that holiday. She wished she had listened to Ron. She wished they would stop fighting. She wished Ron would stop caring so much.

She wished she had her baby back.

Tearfully, she pointed her wand at the cupboard opposite her, where a suitcase fell from it. In a matter of seconds, she had her clothes and a few other belongings packed inside it.

This was the easy way, but it felt like the only way.

"Are you going on another holiday, mummy?"

Hermione turned her attention to the door where Rose was standing. She had her teddy bear clutched tightly to her chest, her red hair frizzy from being in bed. How she loved her little Rosie more than anything else in the world. And she was so grateful she hadn't had the same fate as her baby sibling. But her Rosie was sad. All because of her.

"No, darling. Not a holiday."

Rose ran into the room and climbed onto the bed. Her teddy bear lay forgotten at the other end. Hermione was reminded of the many times Rose had come in to them to say goodnight, or good morning. Her smile was enough to make them happy for the rest of the day.

But now she just felt pity. Sadness. She didn't want her daughter to be the cause of that. It wasn't fair.

Rose climbed into her lap and Hermione allowed herself one last moment with her little girl. A goodbye, if she must. She wrapped her arms tightly around the most precious thing in her life and held onto her tightly.

She was meant to be protecting Rose from pain, not being the one to cause it.

"Rosie," she said into her hair, breathing in its scent. "I love you."

Rose was a lot like Ron. She didn't say anything. She didn't respond.

_Don't do this, Hermione_, she told herself. _Don't leave your baby_.

The two of them stayed where they were. It could have been for hours. Hermione didn't know. She didn't even care. All she needed was her little girl in her arms to make her realise that leaving was not the right thing to do. Not when she was holding something so precious in her arms. Something she loved beyond anything else.

After a long while, Hermione climbed quietly off the bed – Rose still in her arms – picked up the forgotten teddy bear and carried her sleeping daughter back to her bedroom. Stars glowed on the roof. Hermione had done that when Rose had been a baby. It settled her.

She laid her daughter down on the bed and pulled the blankets over her. Rose didn't stir. With a kiss to her forehead, Hermione left the room and returned to her own. Ron was now there. He was staring blankly at the suitcase on the floor.

"You're leaving?" he asked bluntly, but she could hear his pain. He didn't want her to go.

"No, I just... I wanted – "

" – I thought we were past this, Hermione," Ron interrupted. "I thought you were better."

Tears leaked from her eyes. She couldn't control them. "I-I am," she sobbed. "It was just a – "

" – I love you," he said. "That's why I did it. I love you, Hermione. Do you understand what that means?"

"Yes, I do. Ron, I – " she came to sit beside him, but he moved away. Far away. He was at the window.

"If you knew, you wouldn't be leaving," he said. He was hurt. Of course he was. It was all her doing. It was all her fault.

"Do you even care about Rose anymore?" he continued. "Because it seems you only care about yourself; about how you're feeling. Do my feelings not matter to you? Do you not care that Rose misses you so much?"

Hermione shook her head, her tears hindering her speech. He was right. Everything he said was the truth.

All her fault.

"Go, if that's what you want."

Hermione was reminded of a similar conversation they had had a few weeks ago.

With tears streaming down her face, she shook her head, lost for words. Ron didn't seem to notice her regret. He was too upset.

"Just go, Hermione." He picked up her suitcase and handed it to her. "I can't deal with seeing you this way anymore. It's selfish, I know. I should be trying to make you better; to help you. But I just can't. I love you too much to be able to handle all the pain you're feeling. It hurts _me_ to see you like that."

Hermione took the bag – reluctantly – and stood up. She looked at him through her tears. "I love you too," she said, almost whispered.

That was the last she saw of him before she Disapparated, appearing moments later at the only place she knew would be a comfort to her. The home of her parents.

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_**If it wasn't obvious (which I don't think it was), Hermione's mental speech was the 'long speech'. It was everything she was telling herself.**_

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	21. Excogitate

**_Phew! I finally (after deleting what I had written at least 5 times) I have something I am semi happy with. This word gave me enough 'grief' to last the whole story. It's kind of a nothing chapter, really. I apologise. _**

**Thank so, so much for the many reviews I have. 60! Yay! I hope you enjoy.**

**I don't own any Harry Potter.**

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**Excogitate**

_**To **__**think **__**out; **__**devise; **__**invent.**_

_Hermione,_

_Okay, I was wrong. I never should have asked you to leave. I was just angry... no, not angry. Upset. I couldn't handle seeing YOU so upset – hurting. I just wanted; hoped that you were better. I saw moments where you seemed like your normal self again. I thought you were actually starting to feel happy again. And then that letter from the Ministry came and it all just fell apart._

_I watched it. I watched you go back into your shell. The one that was filled with nothing but pain. That was why I was so angry with them. That was why I wanted them to take back what they had asked of you. And I still know that deep down, one day you will want to go back._

_I'm sorry. I miss you and I just want you home, but I also understand that you need time. I guess we both do. Only Rose doesn't understand that. She just plain misses you. I can't tell her what happened, though. As far as she knows, you're visiting your parents because one of them is ill. _

_Oh and I've been thinking. That idea you had a while back about moving. I think it's a good idea. This place really is too small now. So when you're ready to come home, we can talk about it. Rose will love living somewhere that's filled with magic. She loves going to the Burrow._

_Okay. Please come home soon. I love you._

_Ron._

Hermione scrunched up Ron's letter, but it wasn't in anger. She felt ashamed more than anything. Two days she had refused to go home despite her mother's efforts to get her to. Two days she had been away from Ron. Two days she had been away from Rose.

It had happened before, but never had she had no desire to return. Sometimes her work would take her away from them, but the knowledge that she would eventually be home always cheered her up. She always _wanted_ to go back.

Now, she couldn't bear facing them. She didn't deserve to see them. Ron was being too nice. He had had every right to tell her to leave. He didn't have to apologise or asking her to forgive him. She had been contemplating leaving herself and would have if Rose hadn't come to see her just before.

But now she was here, away from them and there was nothing left for her to do. She had spent the past two days thinking about it over and over again. Thinking of ways where things might have been different. She had devised plans that could improve her relationship with Ron; get it back on track.

But every time she found the slightest bit of courage to go back, she was once again reminded of what had happened. At least here, there was no constant reminder of what she had lost; what they had both lost. She was somewhat happy here.

"But not as happy as you are with them," her mother had said after she had voiced this opinion. She took the letter from her hand and smoothed it out. "He wants you home, Hermione," she said. "And by the sounds of things, so does Rose. Rose will always need you with her."

Hermione shook her head. She had been thinking about that too. "I don't deserve Rose," she said quietly.

"Of course you do!" her mother exclaimed. She sounded shocked. "You're her mother."

"I'm not much of a mother to have left her," Hermione replied harshly. "She's better off without me."

"You're grieving for something you loved. You're hurting. You're in pain. That doesn't make you a bad mother."

There was silence for a while. Peaceful silence, filled only by Hermione's tears. Surely she should have run out by now.

"Why isn't Ron like this?" she eventually asked. "Why isn't he a blubbering mess?" It had been at the back of her mind for ages now, but she had never dared asked. Yes, Ron was upset and yes, she knew he was able to control his emotions better than her, but normally that turned to anger. The only anger she had seen was when he had abused the Head of her department the day before.

It was as if he really had dealt with it.

"You're not letting him, dear," her mother answered.

That was true. She knew that was true.

"I... I thought we would be happy," Hermione sobbed. "I thought we could be forever. But, it's not like that anymore. Everything's changed. One day everything is fine and then the next, it's like... this."

"You're going through something traumatic, Hermione. Something that is hard for anyone to deal with. It's not going to get better in a week, or a month, even. It's going to take time. Lots of time. But you can't abandon your family because it's too hard. The only way you're going to get through it is by dealing with it. Not running away."

It had been the same thing for the last two days. "Go home", "Ron needs you", "Rose needs you" and "You can't run away from your problems". No one understood how hard that was, though. She had caused Ron and Rose nothing but misery. They were better off without her.

She needed to think things over more. She needed to come up with a way that could help herself move on, because even she knew she was beyond the help of anyone else.

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	22. Caprice

**_Thanks for all your wonderful reviews :) And favourites and author alerts. _**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm trying to move the plot along, yet this is only the 22nd chapter.**

**I don't own any Harry Potter.**

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**Caprice**

_**A **__**sudden, **__**unpredictable **__**change, **__**as **__**of **__**one's **__**mind **__**or **__**the **__**weather.**_

Ron wasn't sure what had changed his mind; what had made him decide that perhaps moving somewhere far away from here was for the best. But the moment Hermione had left and he had woken up the next day without her, he had realised how much he wanted her back.

And if moving away from all the memories was what brought her back, then he was willing to do it. He just couldn't be without her for much longer. Even if it was the depressed Hermione that he didn't like at all who came back. He still _loved_ every Hermione.

But things had changed. Things had changed between them, things had changed in their lives. It was about time he stopped trying to fight it and accept that from now on things were going to be different. He was always going to feel sadness over what had happened. That was never going to change. But other things could and moving was one of them; a change he could control.

He had survived a week without Hermione. A week without hearing from her and a week without knowing where she was. He guessed she was with her parents, but he wasn't certain. For all he knew, she wasn't even in the country. But he doubted even Hermione would go that far.

But he had come to accept the fact that she would come home when she was ready. He didn't want to think about her not coming home at all.

"Can I see James today?" Rose asked, coming into the living room, where Ron sat, writing down a list of things he would need to do if they really were going to move.

Ron looked at her, an expression of sympathy on his face. "Not today, Rosie," he said apologetically.

"Why?" Rose asked, innocence in her voice.

"Because James is busy," Ron lied. "So is Albus."

"I want to play!" Rose exclaimed, now stomping her feet in frustration. "Please?"

"I know, Rosie. I know. How about I send an owl to your Uncle Harry now and ask if you can go over there tomorrow? Or if James and Albus can come here?"

Rose didn't look happy about it, but she nodded anyway. Maybe she realised things were different. Things weren't like they used to be, even for his little Rose.

"What are you doing?" she then asked, climbing up to sit beside him.

Ron took the parchment away from her. She couldn't read, but he didn't want her to suspect anything yet. Or get her hopes up. Not when Hermione wasn't even home yet. "Just stuff for the Ministry," he told her. Was this what it had come to? He was lying to Rose to spare her feelings?

Rose looked at him. "Are you going to go away again?" she asked, now speaking with sadness. How many emotions could a little girl go through in such a short space of time?

Ron shook his head. There had been times where he had gone away for a week or so, on an Auror mission, but back then, Hermione had been with her. Even if a mission had come up, he would have had to say no. Even if Hermione was there, he wouldn't have left Rose alone with her.

He had no doubt Hermione loved Rose. But her love for one child and grief, was causing her to neglect another. She wasn't in the right head space to look after Rose. Which was sad. She should have been.

"No, I'm staying here with you, Rosie." He tried to sound cheerful.

Rose beamed. "Yay!"

And just in that moment, everything changed again. Just when Ron felt as if everything was settling as best it could – Rose was okay – an owl fluttered through the open window, landing beside him on the couch. It was his own owl; the one he had sent five days ago to Hermione.

He removed the letter from its foot, excited that Hermione had finally replied. But it wasn't Hermione's writing. It was a letter from her mother.

He swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat and opened it cautiously. He wasn't sure if he was prepared for any bad news. He had been convinced Hermione would eventually come home. If not for him, for Rose.

_Ron,_

_I hope you get this. It's worked the few times I have used it. _

_Something's happened. I thought I had talked her into going back home, but now she's landed herself in __St. Muf __the hospital you use. They were very strict about people like us being in there. Someone needs to be with her. Please be with her, Ron! _

_Jean._

Ron swallowed again, turning to Rose. She had her hand resting on his arm, staring at the letter. Her eyes eventually met his.

"That's mummy?" she asked. She had watched him send the letter five days earlier.

Ron shook his head. "Not exactly. It was your grandmother. Something has – "

" – the sick one?"

"... yeah. But she's okay now. We have to go and visit your mum at the hospital."

Rose seemed confused. "She's not sick."

"She-she is now, Rosie," Ron answered, although he didn't know exactly what had happened.

He was worried. Once upon a time ago, he had been happy. Then that had changed in a space of a few words from Hermione. Then Hermione was gone. He thought she would come back. Now she was in St. Mungo's and he had no idea what was wrong with her.

Once again, everything had changed without him planning it.

"Hold on tight," he said to Rose, clutching her close to him. She gripped onto his hand, taking his words literally. Within a second, he had Disapparted with Rose, appearing moments later in the waiting room of St Mungo's hospital.

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	23. Pied

**_I rewrote this chapter quite a few times before I came up with this. I hope you like it. And thanks for the fantastic reviews. It's what inspires me to keep writing! And tomorrow's chapter may come a bit later than usual, if at all. I'll get it up as soon as I can!_**

**I don't own any Harry Potter characters, just the plot :)**

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**Pied**

_**Having **__**patches **__**of **__**two **__**or **__**more **__**colours, **__**as **__**various **__**birds **__**and **__**other **__**animals.**_

"She's okay?"

"She's okay, Rosie. I promise."

A hand brushed over Hermione's, gently, comfortingly. She knew that hand. It belonged to Ron. Why was he here? And where was 'here', anyway?

She didn't remember much. She had been at her parents' house, her mum begging her to go back home and then there had been a pain in her chest. One that felt more real than anything she had ever felt. It was as if someone had stabbed her with a knife. That was what it had felt like. Someone had put a knife through her chest. And had then taken her breath away.

Now she was here. _St. Mungo's_, she decided.

Her eyes flickered open. There were two shapes in front of her. Blurry, but she knew who they belonged to.

"You're awake." Ron's voice was closer than she had thought. She felt his hand squeeze hers. Despite herself, she squeezed back. He was here. That was all that mattered.

He hadn't given up on her.

"What happened?" she asked quietly, focusing her vision. Rose was seated in Ron's lap, watching her with a concerned expression. Her little Rose – the one she had abandoned – was there, looking at her as if she had done nothing. She shouldn't have been grateful that Rose didn't know what had happened, but she was.

"The Healer said you suffered – what do the Muggles call it? – an anxiety attack," Ron answered. Where was the anger in his voice? Why wasn't he angry with her for leaving?

"I-I don't remember," Hermione said. She pointed to her chest. "Just a lot of pain. Here."

Ron's hand clasped hers even tighter. She turned to face him. He smiled at her – even if it wasn't the type of smile that told her she was completely forgiven. It was still a warm, loving smile. One she didn't deserve.

"You've put yourself through a lot," he said to her gently. "You've been feeling too much. There's only so much one person can take. You reached that limit. You went beyond that limit."

Hermione shook her head. "I... I just feel if I let myself forget... it doesn't feel right to forget."

Ron nodded, as if understanding. But he couldn't. Not really. "Don't forget, just move on."

It sounded so simple. But it wasn't. Not for her. Not when it was her fault in the first place.

Rose, who was now squirming in Ron's arms, finally broke free and crawled onto the bed, where she lied down beside Hermione, resting her small face on her mother's shoulder. She wrapped her arms around her neck. Hermione could never explain the comfort her daughter brought. There were no words for it.

"Careful, Rosie," Ron warned.

Rose ignored him. "You're coming home now?" she asked. She spoke with such innocence. She did not know of, nor did she understand anything that had happened. If she did, she would not be asking for her mother to come home.

"She is, Rosie," Ron answered instead.

Hermione didn't have any words to say. She wasn't sure if she was welcome back home.

"She has no choice."

"I'm sorry for leaving, Rosie," Hermione finally said, burying her face into her daughter's hair. "I won't again. I promise." She spoke to Ron just as much as Rose. She had been given a second chance.

This time she really _was_ determined to sort her life out. To put the past behind her. To move on.

"'S okay," Rose mumbled.

Hermione looked back at Ron, running her fingers through Rose's hair absently. There was nothing like the feeling of having her daughter's arms around her. Even if she knew she didn't deserve such affection.

"I still don't understand what happened," she said to him quietly.

"Too much pain," Ron replied. "Emotionally. You couldn't take it. But I understand now. Before, I didn't realise how much you really did blame yourself for what happened. How guilty you felt. If I had – "

"It was my fault," Hermione interrupted.

Ron shook his head. "No, it wasn't. It happened. Yes, it doesn't seem fair, but it still happened. Whether you had taken that Portkey or not, it still might have happened. You couldn't stop it from happening. It... it was meant to be."

How was something like that meant to be? How was that fair?

"I thought you were getting better," Ron continued. Now it seemed he was confessing his own guilt; guilt he shouldn't have been feeling. "I stopped worrying as much. You seemed happier. It was like you were starting to feel like yourself again. I'm sorry. I looked past the pain and guilt that you were really feeling and by the time I noticed... it was too late. I should have seen that there were two sides to you. One that gave the impression you were mending, but the less obvious one I didn't see. Or it was the side I didn't want to see. I didn't want to see you hurting so much. It would only make me realise what we had lost. I'm sorry."

Hermione found his hand again. She had no reply to begin with. She could feel Rose playing with her necklace – the one Ron had once given her. Whether she was listening to what Ron was saying, she didn't know.

Eventually, she looked at him, her eyes burning into him. "There weren't two sides to me," she confessed. "Just one big mess of emotions that it was hard to distinguish one from another. There still is, but I want to fix it. I want to try and move on. It will take some time, but I can do it. I know I can."

Ron nodded. "I know you can too. If anyone can find a way to get past this, it's you. I will help in any way that I can. Just... please don't leave again. Even if I tell you to, don't."

Hermione's heart gave a shudder as she nodded. She hoped Ron would never ask her to leave again, because she doubted she would have the strength to return at all. This was her last chance.

His hand found hers again and he kissed her. "I love you," was all he said.

Hermione smiled despite herself. "What part of me? The sane one, or the crazy one?"

"Isn't a simple 'I love you too' good enough anymore?" Ron asked, smiling back at her. He used his other hand to stroke her hair affectionately.

"Yeah, it is," she replied softly. "I guess. I just think you deserve more than that after what I have put you through."

His only response was to kiss her again. Even if there were two sides to her – or more – every part of her loved _him_ with everything she had. She always had.

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	24. Filiopietistic

**_I took a bit of a different turn with this chapter, but I had to research this word a little bit for it to make sense to me. And it steers away a bit from my head canon, but I feel as if it suits._**

**Thanks for the reviews and I hope you enjoy.**

**I don't anything Harry Potter, other than the plot.**

* * *

**Filiopietistic**

_**Pertaining to **__**reverence **__**of **__**forebears **__**or **__**tradition, **__**especially **__**if **__**carried **__**to **__**excess.**_

It was a tradition in the Weasley family that when a birthday came around, the whole family was there to celebrate. And nothing changed when Rose turned two. She was delighted – of course – to see so many people she loved to spend time with, all together.

And everything was made better when they were celebrating it at her favourite place in the whole world. The Burrow. It was something they had been doing for years and as far as she was concerned, they could continue doing it for many more.

When she arrived on the day of her birthday, the Burrow looked like a place of happiness. Hippogriff and gnome shaped balloons danced merrily of their own accord in the kitchen. A birthday cake sat on the bench –

"A big one!" she exclaimed excitedly to her mum when she noticed it.

"All for you, my dear Rosie," her grandma Weasley replied, picking her up off the ground and planting a big, wet kiss on her cheek.

Rose giggled happily. She really did love coming here. And after such a long time of her mum and dad being sad, she thought they needed to be happy again.

Soon, everyone had arrived – baring presents and wishing her a happy birthday. Rose beamed at them all, allowing them all to give her hugs and kisses whenever they offered. She had already received plenty from her mum and her grandmother.

"So, Rosie, what did you get for your birthday?" her Uncle George asked her after he put her down from twirling her in the air. "I bet your mum and dad spoiled you rotten."

Rose nodded enthusiastically. "More books," she told him with a huge grin.

"Of course," George answered. "How could I be so stupid?"

Rose giggled. George was her favourite uncle. He made her laugh.

"But," George continued. "Will those books be as popular when you see what I have got you?" he wiggled his eyebrows and Rose watched him curiously.

If there was anything better than being at the Burrow on her birthday, it was getting presents. She loved presents.

"What is it?" she asked excitedly.

George ruffled her hair, grinning. "You'll have to wait and see, Rosie. You will get it soon."

Rose's smiled faltered for a second. She was about to demand he give it to her now, but then her cousin, Victoire came over to her, insisting she join them in a game of Exploding Snap.

"I will see you when we have lunch," George smiled at her and then disappeared into the mix of grown-ups. Rose joined her cousins.

It was a nice morning. They all gathered in the backyard for a big lunch and then Rose's birthday cake was brought out. She excitedly blew out her candles and opened the many presents that had been brought by her family.

She got a knitted jumper from her grandparents (as was another tradition), more books from her Uncle Percy and Auntie Audrey –

"I'm so delighted you have inherited my love for learning, Rose," Percy told her.

Beside her, her dad laughed.

As promised, George brought her something which had everyone in awe. He ran a joke shop and that joke shop had some of the best things in it. He gave her a box filled with sweets, toys and some other things from it. She smiled at him.

"Thank you," she said.

"Beats the books don't you think, Rosie?" he asked.

She nodded.

Percy scowled.

It looked like they were headed into a nice afternoon. The family was once again gathered in the backyard. Her dad and George had just helped themselves to a third piece of cake each. Her mum was talking to her Auntie Ginny and she was smiling. Rose beamed.

But it was James who ruined what was almost the perfect day.

"Did you know my mum and dad are going to have another baby?" he was heard telling Teddy.

Rose was sitting next to her dad. He dropped the spoon which was half way to his mouth. Across the table, her mum had stopped talking. She looked sad again, watching James and then Ginny.

No one spoke for a very long time. James looked around, cowering at the look his mother gave him.

"What?" he asked.

"H-how did you know about that, James?" Ginny asked.

"I heard you talking about it," James replied with a shrug.

Rose didn't understand. Why wasn't anyone excited about it? Everyone looked angry. Or scared.

"I... we didn't want to say anything," Ginny said to her mum. She sounded like she was apologising. Why was that?

"It's okay," her mum replied, smiling. "I'm happy for you. Congratulations."

But she didn't look happy. No one spoke much after that. No one said anything.

Rose glowered at her cousin. He had ruined everything.

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	25. Crib

**_Thanks for your reviews :D I think it would have been easier if this definition had been the OTHER definition, but I used it how I could._**

**_I don't own any Harry Potter other than the plot. I hope you enjoy._**

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**Crib**

_**To pilfer or steal, especially to plagiarise**_

"I am so sorry, mate. We were trying to keep it under wraps. I don't even know how James found out. We never told the kids."

Ron shook his head. "It's okay. You have every right to share it with everyone."

"Yeah, but after what happened, we just thought..." Harry let the sentence hang.

"Don't worry about us," Ron said. "We're okay. Everything's okay."

Harry put a hand on Ron's shoulder, giving him a look that said he didn't believe him. "Honestly, we were going to tell you guys separately. We didn't want you to find out like that."

"Mate! It's alright. We... well things like this were going to happen eventually weren't they? It's not like the whole world can just stop having kids because of us."

Harry looked around to where Hermione was playing quietly with Rose and Albus. She hadn't said much at all since James' revelation. Ron didn't think she had taken it as kindly as he had. After all the work they had done since she left the hospital, he was worried this was going to send her all the way back to the beginning. Again.

"Tell her I'm really sorry," Harry said. "We both are."

Ron nodded in understanding, giving Harry a thanking smile. "I will."

Hermione was now making her way over to them. "We should go," she said quietly. "Rose wants to stay. Ginny is okay to drop her home a little while later."

Ron nodded again. He put a comforting arm across her shoulders, pulling her close to him.

As soon as they reached their living room, Hermione sat down on the couch. She didn't even try to hide her tears. She simply cried. Ron sat beside her. He didn't say anything. All he did was hold her; comfort her.

"It should be us," she eventually said.

"What should be?" Ron asked quietly, though he thought he knew. The same thought had crossed his mind too.

"It should be us, not them. We should be the ones sharing that news. It was supposed to be us."

Ron pulled her closer to him. "I know," was all he said.

There was more silence. Ron had no idea what to say. Things had been going so well. Hermione hadn't cried once since leaving St. Mungo's. And she only seemed to be thinking about it half as much as she was before. This was a blow neither of them had been expecting, or hoping for. Having to deal with someone else having a baby was not what they wanted. Not so soon afterwards.

"There they are, all happy, having _anothe_r baby. And us? We don't get that chance. No, we had our child taken from us before we even got to know them. How is that fair? How come they get to be happy... and excited and we have to feel like this?" she looked at him, tears running down her face. "I don't know how to be happy for them." She said it so quietly it was barely audible.

Ron held her even closer. "They're not expecting anything," he said.

"But is it wrong to feel... jealous?"

"No, not after what has happened, Hermione. Of course not."

"I just wish we could go back in time and..." she didn't finish the sentence, probably realising that in their world, going back in time was actually possible. "We were robbed of the happiness Harry and Ginny are feeling."

"I know," Ron said again. He understood where Hermione was coming from. When James had said it, it had felt like a big reminder of what had happened to them. It was like every time they tried to be happy; to sort their lives out, something would happen to make sure they didn't forget.

And this time was worse. They were going to have to watch their best friends be happy – and try and be happy for them – when deep down, all they could think about was what they had lost, what had been taken from them.

"Do you ever think about what it would have been like?" Hermione questioned suddenly. "Like, what our baby would have been like? A boy or a girl? What kind of personality they would have? Would they look like you, or me?"

Ron smiled at her. "Yeah, of course."

Hermione sighed. "I wish we had gotten the chance to know. It's an amazing feeling to watch Rose grow and learn every day."

"We can always do that again, Hermione. You only have to say the word."

This time she didn't argue straight away. She seemed to be considering his words. "You know," she eventually began. "I am nowhere near ready to even consider that again, but, the thought doesn't repulse me anymore." She smiled at him. "Maybe one day, you can ask me again and I might say yes."

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	26. Piacular

_**Put aside the grief for one chapter. I hope you like cheese and fluff. I'm in the process of moving, so I don't know when I will be able to update next, so I have decided to treat you to something a little more... happy. I hope you like.**_

_**Thanks once again for your wonderful reviews and favourites and alerts. It keeps me writing.**_

_**I don't own any Harry Potter, other than the plot.**_

* * *

**Piacular**

_**Expiatory; **__**atoning; **__**reparatory**_

The morning after Harry and Ginny's unexpected news, Hermione found she was busying herself with housework to take her mind off everything. Not that it helped much when Ginny had already sent her two apologetic letters in the space of an hour.

Hermione had thrown them both out without replying. She wasn't angry with them. She just didn't want to think about it. She had finally discovered she was much happier _not_ thinking about it.

"You do realise you are a witch and could have that done in five seconds?"

Hermione looked up from where she was washing the dishes manually. "It distracts me," she said. And she went back to what she was doing.

Ron wasn't going to accept her answer. He pointed his wand at the pile of clean dishes, where they stacked themselves neatly on the shelves and then set the rest to work, cleaning themselves.

"Don't waste such a lovely day inside," he said, grinning. It looked like he had found a different way to try and forget what had happened at Rose's birthday.

Hermione stared at him. "What do you suppose I do, then?" she asked, looking out the window. It was a bright, sunny day. There had been a lot of that lately and it had done nothing for how she was feeling. Why was the weather not feeling her pain?

"Make up for everything we have missed out on the past two months!" Ron exclaimed as if it was obvious.

"Like what?"

Ron's smile widened. "Anything that will make you happy," he said.

Hermione nodded and turned her attention to the window sill. That looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. "Good." And she grabbed a cloth.

Ron followed her to the window, turning her around and looking her directly in the eye. "That can wait," he said. It was more of a demand than anything else. He wasn't going to take no for an answer. "Listen, you remember that place we used to go to in Diagon Alley a few years ago? I was thinking that maybe we could go there again. Just us."

Hermione studied him for a few moments. She felt a strong desire to kiss him. But she stopped herself. That was going to do nothing to convince him she wasn't in the mood for going out. "Not tonight," she said apologetically.

"But I've got it all organised. Rose is going to spend the night at Harry and Ginny's – "

" – so James and Albus can talk about the new baby in front of her?"

Ron paused. "I didn't think about that."

Hermione looked away.

"Please?" Ron begged. "We need to do something. Anything that will make up for all the nights we've spent here at home, crying, or feeling sorry for ourselves. We could take Rose if you want. I mean, we do owe her a lot of apologies, really."

"Ron, I – "

"Please! Are you scared you might actually enjoy yourself?"

Yes, that was exactly what she was afraid of. Forgetting.

"Okay," she relented. "If you really want to. But... but ask Percy if he will look after Rose."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "You want to torture the poor girl?" he asked, feigning innocence.

Hermione gave him a look that told him it wasn't up for discussion. She wasn't ready to see Harry and Ginny yet. She hoped they would understand.

"Okay, I'll send an owl to Percy. But if Rose comes back to us sounding twenty years older, I will blame you."

"Fine." Hermione went back to cleaning.

OOO

"It's just for a few hours, Rosie," Ron said soothingly. He looked at Hermione with a quizzical expression. Rose had not been happy to hear she would be spending the night with her cousins who _weren't_ James and Albus.

Rose shook her head, folding her arms. "James," she said.

"They... they can't," Ron told her. "Another time, okay?"

Rose shook her head again. Hermione received another look from Ron. This time it wasn't as kind. It was more of a _why am I getting blamed for this?_ look.

"Well you can either go there, or stay here by yourself," Ron said. Rose hated being in a different room from them most of the time. Hermione knew that that threat would work.

"Not here," she relented.

"Good. Now hold on." Ron Disapparated with. Hermione waited only five minutes until he returned.

"This better be worth it," he said. "Because Rose officially hates me."

"This was your idea!" Hermione argued, but she was silenced by Ron's lips on hers.

"No arguing," he said. "We have a lot of atoning to do." He smiled. "Ready?"

Hermione nodded, taking his hand reluctantly. She wasn't sure if she was ready to face such a happy group of people as those who went to Diagon Alley. It still felt too soon.

OOO

It was just like she remembered it. Nothing had changed. She and Ron used to come here quite often when they were younger. Back then, they had just started their jobs at the Ministry and had just started living together. This was their getaway.

It seemed Ron still had plans to use it as their getaway. This beautiful restaurant right at the end of the Alley.

Hermione smiled at the sight. She was actually feeling... happy.

"Come on," Ron took her hand and led – or dragged – her inside. They found a table by the window. Ron beamed at her. "This brings back memories," he said cheerfully.

"Good memories, I hope," Hermione answered, unable to contain her own smile.

"Of course." Ron studied the menu which had appeared in front of them. "The food's different, though."

"Typical," Hermione replied, still smiling.

"Can't remember why we stopped coming here, though," Ron continued as if Hermione hadn't spoken.

It was in that moment a bored looking witch – maybe the owner – came over to them. She recognised them instantly as two of the three who had saved the wizarding world and from then on, their night was spent being fussed over by every witch or wizard in their presence.

"Ah, that's why," Ron sighed as she walked away. "If they react that way to us, they'd probably die of heart failure if Harry and Ginny walked in."

"Don't," Hermione said. "It's nice."

"And annoying."

She had to agree with that. And really, she thought they would have been forgotten after nine years. Harry and Ginny were the famous ones, not them.

Despite being the celebrities of the night, it was rather enjoyable. Hermione found herself only thinking of the bad things once the whole time. And that was because Ron had wondered what Rose was up to.

Other than that, it felt like the old times. The days where they had nothing more to worry about than what they were going to have for breakfast tomorrow. No Rose, no grief. Nothing.

Nothing except happiness.

"So, I may be wrong, but I actually think you had fun," Ron said after they left. Once again, he took her hand and led her down Diagon Alley. It was late and all the shops were shut up. It was peaceful.

"I did," Hermione replied. And it was the truth. "We should do this more often."

Ron stopped and turned to face her. "Did it make up for all the unhappiness you have been leaking out the past two months?"

Hermione pretended to think about it. "Not quite," she said.

"Well, tell me, please. How do I make it better?"

She stepped closer and he took her in his arms. Definitely like the old times; the happy times. She kissed him. How she loved him; how she had always loved him.

He gripped her tighter, laughing. "It's like we're twenty years old again," he said.

"Let it stay that way," Hermione whispered through kisses. "Just for one more hour."

And somehow, she knew that Ron had forgiven her for any pain or grief she might have caused him over the past two months. It was something in the way he kissed her.

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	27. Screed

**_Hey all. I finally managed to gain some internet access and I could post this chapter. I was waiting for the right word to finally post this, but I kind of... twisted it to get it to fit._**

**Thanks so much for the reviews and favourites. :)**

**I don't own any Harry Potter, other than the plot.**

* * *

**Screed**

_**A long discourse or essay, especially a diatribe.**_

"Ron?"

"Mmm?"

"Something's happened."

Ron's eyes shot open and he rolled onto his side, facing Hermione. She was sitting up in bed, wide awake despite it not even being light outside yet. She gave him a look which he had seen so many times over the past few months; he knew it wasn't good news.

Which was disappointing. He had thought things were finally falling into place after the night before.

"What is it?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know.

"I'm pregnant." She said it so bluntly, it took Ron by surprise.

He blinked at her, not sure he had heard her right. How could that even be possible?

Hermione seemed to read his mind. "It is possible and I am," she said. She didn't sound happy about it either.

"Um... okay." Ron couldn't find the words to assure her, or comfort her. She had said so many times that she just wasn't ready. He knew this couldn't have been good for her. Not when she was still so fragile. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, blinking away tears. "Positive."

"How long have you known?"

"Only since this morning," she replied. "But I've suspected for a few days."

"Even when you found out about Harry and Ginny?"

Hermione nodded again. "I'm sorry, I should have told you. I just... there was a part of me that was really hoping it was true. Then another big part that really didn't want that. At all."

All of a sudden, it all made sense to Ron. Her slight turn around the other day when she said she wasn't completely against the idea anymore. She had been trying to convince herself that she was ready for this, because she had known. Even if she hadn't wanted it to be true.

"What are we going to do?" she asked. Her voice was shaking. She was scared.

Ron ran his hands over his face. This was definitely not news he had been expecting, or hoping for this early in the morning. "Take it as it comes, I guess" was his only suggestion.

"I don't know if I can do this," Hermione replied. "Not so soon after... it kind of feels as if we're... replacing..."

Ron turned to her. "No, don't think that," he told her determinedly. "It's not true."

"What if it happens again?" her voice was quiet. Ron realised it was her real fear. Of feeling so much pain again.

He shook his head. "It won't. How did this happen?" he then wondered, more to himself than to Hermione.

"Five week ago."

Ron was surprised. Had she been counting?

"Ron, what are we going to do? It's way too soon. I don't think we can do this. Not now. Maybe if it had been in two months time, then yeah, but... it's too hard." Hermione pulled him close to her. He knew it was out of fear, not love. "I'm so scared it will happen again, Ron. I'm terrified. I... we can't go through this again. It still hurts so much. We never should have allowed this to happen. It was stupid. And how are we going to tell everyone? Especially Harry and Ginny? Or Rose? She won't understand. Harry and Ginny might feel as if we're taking away their... moment."

"Hermione," Ron said, putting a stop to the rant he knew was about to come. "Whether you wanted it to or not, it has happened. There is nothing we can do about it. Just... be happy about it."

"I can't. Not when I am so scared of it happening again."

Ron cupped her face in his hands, looking at her directly in the eye. "Nothing is going to go wrong," he promised.

"You can't be sure."

"What happened last time was a tragic accident. It was no one's fault. This time we will be more careful. We will make sure we're doing everything right. Like we did with Rose. Remember? Rose was born and still is a perfectly healthy and happy little girl. We won't travel my magic. No Portkeys, no Apparating, no Floo Powder. We'll get a car."

Hermione smiled at him. "Really?" she asked.

Ron nodded. "I don't want it to happen again, either, you know. I don't want to have to feel what I have felt these past two months ever again. I'm still feeling it, but we've been given another chance." He paused, another idea coming to him. "You know what. I know we have discussed it, but nothing's really come about. Hermione, we need to move. Out of this Muggle street, somewhere, where our kids can grow up being who they are. Somewhere much bigger."

Hermione nodded. "We can do this," she said. Ron knew she was trying to reassure herself.

"Of course we can," he replied. "We've been through a lot worse."

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	28. Depone

**_Woah, thanks for all the reviews. Made my day :D I'm sorry I haven't been replying to all of them. I have a very basic/slow internet connection at the moment. Well, this is a bit of a plot twist which I didn't see coming. Sometimes these words inspire weird things. But, I'll see what i can do with it in the coming chapters._**

**I don't own anything Harry Potter other than the plot.**

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**Depone**

_**To testify under oath; depose**_

"You're moving? Since when?" Ginny had stopped in the middle of Diagon Alley, gaping at Ron, then Hermione. An elderly wizard bumped into her, cursing at her as he ran off. Ginny ignored him.

"Since... we decided it was for the best," Hermione replied. "My mum gave us this land that she inherited from some long lost uncle of hers. She has no use for it and... we do."

Ginny shrugged, seeming to accept her revelation as quickly as she had been shocked by it. "It's about time you moved out of that Muggle street, anyway. Your neighbours will be reporting all kinds of weird things before long." She indicated to Rose, who was staring wide eyed in the window of the sweet shop with James and Albus.

"Yeah and we need more room, too," Ron added.

Hermione nudged him in the ribs to silence him. She wasn't ready to break _that_ news to them yet.

Ginny – and Harry – watched her quizzically, but Hermione shrugged. She didn't know what excuse to make.

"Anyway, how's things with you?" she changed the subject. "I'm sorry I haven't been much of a friend these past few months. Especially since..." she didn't need to finish her sentence. Ginny knew.

"I completely understand!" she exclaimed. "You're going through something that most people can't even imagine. I'm just happy to see you smiling again, though."

"As am I," Ron added, throwing an arm across Hermione's shoulder. "At least now we have something to be _happy_ about."

Hermione nudged him harder this time.

"Okay, what's going on?" it appeared that Ginny couldn't resist asking the question now. Hermione shot Ron a disgusted look. They hadn't even told Rose.

"Nothing," she lied. "Things are just finally getting better. That's all."

"You lie." Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Come on, tell us. You're getting a dog?"

Ron scowled. "_A dog?_" he exclaimed, outraged.

"Well you do everything else the Muggle way!" Ginny retorted.

"We're not getting a dog," Hermione sighed. Well, they were going to find out sooner or later. But she was afraid. Would they think they were trying to steal their moment from them? Trying to copy them? "We're – "

But she didn't get to finish. Rose's piercing, heart wrenching scream filled the whole Alley. Wizards and witches poked their heads out of shops and others stopped in their tracks. A small group was forming around a –

Hermione pulled Rose close to her, her hand covering her eyes. Ginny did the same with James and Albus.

With a look between them, Harry and Ron pushed their way through the growing crowd. A body lay there... a dead body of a young wizard no older than twenty. Hermione felt sick to the stomach. She had seen and felt enough death in her life to last ten lifetimes. And she had hoped Rose would never have to experience it. Not like this.

Beside her, her daughter was sobbing; shaking violently. Hermione picked her up, holding her close. "It's okay," she whispered soothingly.

"Dead?" Rose asked through sobs and tears.

Hermione didn't answer. She just held her little girl closer to her. She had nothing to say.

Ginny seemed to be having slightly less luck with James and Albus. Both were fighting their mother's grip to get closer. Ginny tightened her hold on them. "Stay here!" she demanded; less soothingly than Hermione had been with Rose.

"What's happening?" James asked.

"Nothing that concerns you," Ginny answered. She shot Hermione a concerned look. Nothing like this had happened in a very long time. Not since the Death Eaters had taken over Diagon Alley (and most of the wizarding world) all those years ago. They had been nothing but teenagers then.

Now, Harry and Ron – qualified Aurors – were trying to move the crowd away. Two other Ministry members had appeared as well. Hermione only knew one of them. Zola Tippet. Experienced Auror.

"Move away," Hermione heard her screaming at the terrified crowd. Some obeyed, others seemed too scared to move.

Rose, who had had her face buried into Hermione's shoulder, chanced a peak. Hermione turned her back around. This was something she didn't want her daughter to see.

With two loud cracks, two more Aurors Apparated into the small space. One was the Head of the Auror Department. Vincent McNamair.

"What happened?" he asked Harry.

"I don't know. I never saw it."

"I did." It was the voice of boy. He seemed no older than fifteen.

McNamair turned to him. "Can you tell me what you saw?"

The boy nodded and then pointed at Ron. "He did it."

"What?"

"What?"

"What?"

Ginny, Harry and Ron all said it at the same time. Hermione just stood where she was, mouth slightly open in shock. Had she just heard right?

McNamair now turned to Ron.

Ron was furious. "You're seriously going to believe him are you? A kid?"

Ginny moved forward, abandoning her attempt to restrain James and Albus. "This is outrageous!" she said. "He was with us the whole time!" she rounded on McNamair. "This is my brother we're talking about. You know, the one who has worked in your Department for the last eight years. He would never _kill_ someone!"

McNamair brushed her aside. "Keep your pants on, woman – " Ginny scowled " – I realise that Mr Weasley didn't _touch_ the young man. What I would like to know is why a wizard has been murdered and why this young boy believes it was your brother."

"It was!" the boy continued. "He did it. I saw him. I will swear on it in front of the court. I will."

"Shut it!" Ron growled.

McNamair shook his head. The crowd were now watching Ron suspiciously. Some even looked afraid of him. Hermione didn't understand. After everything they had done since the end of the Battle, people were willing to believe the word of a teenager just like that. It made her angry. Furious.

"Alright," McNamair finally said. "I think it's best if we sort this out at the Ministry. You," he pointed at the boy, "Come with me. Weasley, I suppose you better come as well."

"Why?" Ron demanded. "I didn't do anything."

"To get this sorted," McNamair answered. "We have one witness to this murder and he is claiming it was you. So unless you want to be charged and sent to Azkaban for something I think most of know you didn't do, then you better follow."

Ron sighed. "I'll be back soon," he said to Hermione.

Hermione nodded. This was just perfect. It was one thing after another. Would their lives ever go back to the way they were?

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	29. Burled

**_I would have posted this chapter way earlier, but my internet connection is really... bad. I was forced to use the actual word this time, rather than the definition. I hope you like and thanks for the reviews._**

**_I don't own any Harry Potter other than this plot._**

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**Burled**

_**Having **__**small **__**knots **__**that **__**produce **__**a **__**distorted **__**grain **__**in **__**wood.**_

Ron Apparated into the Ministry, still fuming over what had happened. _How_ had it happened? Somebody had turned up dead and _he_ was being blamed for it. And by some kid, too.

McNamair was already seated at his desk with the kid opposite him. The boy was petrified.

_Good._

"Tell me exactly what you saw," he was saying. Ron conjured a chair and sat beside him, ignoring the looks his boss gave him. He had every right to be there. He had every right to know why that silly kid was accusing him of killing someone.

The boy looked at Ron. Ron stared him down. "I saw... him."

McNamair sighed. "We already know that. But what _exactly_ did you see?"

"He... killed that man."

"You're lying!" Ron interrupted. "I didn't touch him!"

"Calm down, Weasley. Let's get to the bottom of this. Please."

"He's lying, sir!" Ron exclaimed.

"Potter, take Weasley out of here, will you? Calm him down. He's just making matters worse."

Ron spun around. He hadn't even seen, or heard Harry arrive.

"Come on, mate," Harry said calmly. He pulled Ron up by his arm. Ron shook him off and stormed from the office. Harry followed.

"You have to calm down, Ron," Harry said, trying to keep up with Ron's angry strides. "McNamair knows you didn't do it. That's just crazy. You have me to vouch for you. And Ginny and Hermione. That kid's mistaken."

"Or lying," Ron grumbled. He hadn't felt so angry since Hermione had quit her job. He just couldn't believe this was happening.

"Why would he lie?" Harry questioned.

"I don't know. Maybe I did something to offend him once before." He plonked himself down on a vacant seat, placing his head in his hands. Harry sat beside him.

"Come on. This is all just one big misunderstanding. It will all be sorted out by the end of the day."

"So much for this being a _good_ day," Ron sighed, remembering what he had promised Hermione earlier that morning.

_We'll just spend the day in Diagon Alley. Let's not worry about anything_. He had no doubt Hermione was worrying.

"Well, it _was_ a good day," Harry said. "Until a dead body turned up, that is."

"We were finally getting our lives sorted, you know," Ron continued. "After... what happened. We were going to move into this bigger place. We were going to give our kids a more... _magical_ environment to grow up in. It was finally all falling into place. And then this happens."

"Hermione's pregnant, isn't she?"

Ron looked up at Harry. "How did you know?" he asked, genuinely surprised. They had never got around to telling them.

He tried to hide it, but Ron saw a small smile appear on Harry's lips. "Just a hunch," he said. "And, you just said 'kids'. Not Rose."

"Oh. Well, yeah, she is. Not that she wants to be. But that's beside the point. The point is, I'm here, I could go to Azkaban, because some kid thinks he saw me kill some wizard. It's Sirius Black all over again."

Harry laughed. "You're exaggerating a bit, don't you think?"

"It could happen."

"Not to one of the Ministry's best Aurors."

Ron grunted a response and then studied a poster on the wall opposite. It was advertising some new Healing Potion. One that probably was just as effective as any other, despite it claiming to be the best.

"I hope Hermione's okay," he changed the subject. "She didn't have much to say."

"She was just in shock," Harry said. "We all were. It's not something you see every day while walking down Diagon Alley."

"Maybe she thought I did it."

"You're joking right? She was standing right beside you."

Ron sighed. "Okay, okay. I'm just worried about her. I'm always worried about her these days. I wish she had never gone on that holiday with Ginny. If she had just stayed at home, everything would have been okay. We wouldn't have lost... it just would have been okay. _She_ would have been okay."

"Yeah, I know. But, you have something to be happy about now, don't you? A way to try and forget all the bad things; to move on?"

Ron glared at his friend. "Forget? Like this baby is just some replacement to the other one? Is that what you think? That everything will be better now? That we can just forget what we have lost?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that. Ron, you guys are my best friends. I've hated seeing both of you so upset. So hurt. I want nothing more than to see some happiness in your lives again. I'm happy for you. You deserve this."

"Hermione thinks it's a burden."

"She'll come around."

Ron didn't want to talk about it anymore. Hermione was right. There was a small part of him that felt as if they were replacing their other child. That was wrong. "You know, I've always wanted a house that is built from burled wood," he said.

"From what?" Harry questioned.

"Burled wood. You know, it's a rather interesting shape. I don't think Hermione would go for it, though."

"You never know if you never ask."

"It would be cool. Rosie would love it. I know she would."

"Then do whatever pleases you, mate. There's nothing wrong with being happy. Believe me, it's a good feeling."

"I forget what happy is these days."

"You'll remember it soon," Harry promised.

"Merlin, I hope so. I really do."

_As long as I'm not sent to Azkaban_, he added silently.

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	30. Auscultation

**_I feel as if the last few chapters I kind of got off track (these words are getting more difficult), but I think I got back on track in this one. Thanks for your wonderful reviews, alerts and favourites. I love getting the emails :D_**

**_I don't own Harry Potter. Just the plot._**

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**Auscultation**

_**The act of listening to sounds within the body as a method of diagnosis**_

Hermione swallowed, fighting back her fear. Why wasn't Ron home yet? Why was it taking so long? They couldn't _actually_ think he had had something to do with it, could they? Surely he would be one of the last people they'd think of.

"Calm down, Hermione, everything's going to be fine." Ginny had followed her home. Hermione didn't really want her there, but what could she say? "I can actually hear your heart beating from across the room," she lowered her voice, glancing over to where Rose was playing with James and Albus. "It's not good to stress when you're pregnant."

Hermione stared at her friend. "How did you know that?" she didn't mean to sound as harsh as she did.

"My brother may be a lot of things, but subtlety is not one of strengths."

Hermione diverted her eyes to the fireplace. She felt awkward talking about that.

Ginny seemed to notice her lack of interest in the topic. "You are happy, aren't you?"

"Are you?" she didn't want to talk about her own feelings. She had done enough of that over the past few months.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not... angry are you?"

Ginny seemed genuinely confused. "Why would I be angry?"

"Because we kind of stole your moment from you."

Hermione didn't know what she was expecting Ginny's reaction to be, but she laughing was not one of them. She wasn't sure how to respond.

"Hermione, no one can control these things." Ginny laughed again. "Is that why you didn't want to tell us?"

Hermione nodded reluctantly. It seemed she had been worrying over nothing.

Ginny now came to sit beside her. She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What has happened to you and Ron these past few months has been awful. I couldn't even begin to imagine what you are really going through. Or how you are feeling. No one can, unless they go through it themselves. But Harry and I... we've watched what has happened. We've been spectators in all this and we've seen what it's done to both of you. It destroyed you. It broke you. I can't imagine that part of you ever being repaired.

"But now... now you have something to look forward to. Something to be happy about. Even if I wanted to be angry – which I'm definitely not – how could I be? I love you guys. I love both of you. I hated seeing you like you were."

Hermione smiled weakly. "Thanks," she said.

Ginny grinned. "Any time. I hope that slowed your heart rate down a little, too. Ron will be home. He'll be okay. Don't stress."

Hermione took in a deep breath. Nothing was going to make her relax until she knew what was happening. Her heart was pounding against her chest. Ron had to be here soon. How much longer could they keep him there? He hadn't done anything.

Ginny made them some tea while they sat and waited.

Nothing happened. It was almost dark outside. Still nothing.

"He didn't do anything," Hermione said quietly once it reached seven o'clock.

"They're probably trying to figure out who _actually_ did it," Ginny said calmly.

"He would have told me."

"They don't think it's him. The only witness was a kid. They're not going to take his word over an Auror's."

Hermione was contemplating going to the Ministry herself and finding out what had happened, when Ron Apparated into the living room. She flew from her seat, throwing her arms around his neck. Relief flooded every part of her. She had been thinking the worst. It was the last thing they needed right now. More stress, more heartbreak.

"Oh thank goodness!" Ginny exclaimed. "She's been thinking the worst all day."

Ron removed Hermione's arms from his neck. He looked at her. "I'm okay. Everything's okay."

"What happened?" Hermione asked weakly. "I thought they might have..." she couldn't finish her sentence.

Ron shook his head, squeezing her hands reassuringly. "They interviewed the kid. He's still insisting he saw me, but they checked my wand. A Patronus Charm doesn't kill anyone. I haven't used a Defensive Spell in about a week. They let me go."

"It took them that long?"

"Well, I did stay back for a while. Despite everything, someone was still murdered. We need to catch who did it."

"You didn't think to send an owl or anything?" Ginny questioned grumpily. "She thought they had thrown you into Azkaban, or something."

Ron looked at Hermione apologetically. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to help."

Hermione didn't say anything. Her only response was to kiss him. She hadn't realised how much she needed him right now. The thought of him being away from her during this terrified her. She needed him more than ever. But it had taken Ron being accused of killing someone to make her realise that.

"As long as you're okay," she said.

"I'm fine. And stop stressing. I can hear you stressing."

Ginny laughed. "I told you."

They were broken apart by a small body coming between them. Something they were quite used to. Rose gave no consideration for Hermione as she pushed her aside so she could get to Ron.

With a huge smile on her face, she threw her arms around Ron's waist. "You're home!" she exclaimed.

Ron picked her up. Hermione had never seen him hold onto her with so much love and affection before. He buried his face into her hair. "I am, Rosie."

Beside them, Ginny laughed again. Hermione had almost forgotten she was there. "You're clearly her favourite, Hermione," she teased.

Hermione smiled, watching Rose make herself comfortable in Ron's arms. "I've never been her favourite." It was something that had never bothered her, either. Ron's relationship with Rose was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She hoped it would be the same even in twenty years time.

"Alright, I better take them home," she looked at James and Albus. They ran towards her, each taking one of her hands. She then looked back at Ron. "I'm glad you're okay. And... congratulations. You guys deserve to be happy."

"Thank you."

With another smile, Ginny Disapparated with the two boys.

When she was gone, Ron turned back to Hermione. "It's nice that you were so worried, but please don't worry," he said. "Remember what we said. We're taking things slowly this time."

"I can't help it!" Hermione argued. "I'm sorry for caring so much."

Ron looked at her with a small smile. "Nothing's going to be easy in our lives, is it?"

Hermione shook her head. "Unfortunately not. It hasn't been from the moment I got on the Hogwarts Express when I was eleven."

"And to think I had been so excited to go to Hogwarts my whole life."

"I want to go!" Rose joined in, squirming with excitement in Ron's arms.

Ron kissed her forehead. "You will one day, Rosie. But when you do, please don't get into as much trouble as we did. No going through trapdoors. Do _not_ set foot in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Stay away from the Whomping Willow and _definitely_ no leaving your dormitory for late night explorations. If you do, I will drag you home myself, before Hogwarts has the chance to expel you."

Rose giggled. "Okay."

"Oh, and no kissing boys either."

Rose was outraged. "Yuck!" she said.

Ron smiled at her. "That's what I like to hear."

Hermione sighed. Having the two people she loved the most with her, slowed her heart back to a normal speed. They were smiling, they were laughing. It was as normal as it was going to get.

And it made her happy.

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	31. Exoteric

**_Valentine's Day inspired me for this chapter, along with the word. So I think I'm allowed a bit of fluff in here. I hope you like._**

**_Thanks for the reviews and I don't own Harry Potter, other than this plot._**

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**Exoteric**

_**Suitable for or communicated to the general public**_

For the first time in weeks, it was raining. And strangely, Ron woke up happier than he had been in a long time. The only thing he needed to worry about was moving house.

_Oh, and the fact there's a wizard killer out there_, he added sourly.

Ever since it had happened a week ago, it had been the only thing the wizarding world wanted to talk about. It was the only thing the Auror Department was focusing on. It was all he and Harry talked about now. No babies or houses were even mentioned.

It was a slight setback for the happy lives they had both anticipated after the Battle nine years ago. But at least it gave them something more exciting to do than answer owls to scared wizards or witches who _thought_ there was something in their house. Or their backyard. This was actually real.

And it was frightening.

"Happy Valentine's Day!"

Hermione might as well have thrown herself at him, she said it with such enthusiasm. Ron blinked a few times to comprehend what had happened. Hermione was standing before him with a smile he hadn't seen in months.

"What happened to 'it's a stupid tradition that we don't need to celebrate'?" Ron asked. It was a bit of a shock seeing her like this. Valentine's Day wasn't normally something she was so enthusiastic to celebrate. In fact, she was very much against it most years.

_I don't need some silly day to show you that I love you._

This time she did throw herself at him. She came at him with such force that Ron stumbled a few steps backwards. "Hmm, maybe I shouldn't be complaining," he smiled.

Hermione broke away from him. Her eyes were burning with happiness; desire. "We have a lot to celebrate this time," she said. "More than the last few years. We've been through so much and... we've come out the other side."

Ron pulled her back into him. "Well, I'm definitely not complaining." He kissed her once more and then conjured a bunch a roses from his wand. It was something he had refused to stop doing despite her protest every year. But it must have meant something to her, because she told him that was why she had chosen to name their daughter Rose.

_The name reminds me of_ us, she had said.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said, giving them to her.

She smiled. "They're as beautiful as our Rose."

"Is that your weird way of saying thank you?" he questioned.

Hermione shook her head. "Thank you just won't cut it this year. Not after everything I did to you; to us. So I'm not even going to try. I'm just going to hope that you forgive me for all the times I have told you I don't you, to leave me alone, or anything else I might have said. I – "

"Of course I forgive you."

"I need you more than ever, now."

"And you have me."

"Why is Harry's owl at our window with the _Prophet_?" her focus turned to somewhere behind his shoulder.

Ron turned around. Sure enough, Harry's owl was sitting by the window sill. He went over to it, taking the paper and a letter. The moment it was free from its burden, it took flight. Why Harry had sent it, he had no idea. Their own copy was sitting on the bench, unopened.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked. She sounded concerned.

Ron opened the letter. It wasn't from Harry, it was from Ginny.

_Take your hands off each other for just five minutes and take a look at the paper. I thought it would be best if you read it with some warning._

_Ginny._

_P.S. Happy Valentine's Day!_

Ron chucked the letter aside and opened the paper. He sat down at the table – Hermione sitting beside him. There was nothing on the front page that would have been of interest to Ginny. More on the murder and the Holyhead Harpies' victory in the latest Quidditch match.

"She wouldn't be telling us about that, would she?" he asked, only half joking. He wouldn't put it past his sister to make something like that sound serious.

"No, I think she's talking about this." Hermione had turned to the fifth page. It was only a small article in the left hand corner, but a picture of the two of them was visible under the heading: _Tragedy for two of our heroes_.

The whole article described every detail of what had happened to them over the past few months. The child they had lost, Hermione moving out for a while, Ron being accused of killing that wizard, their plans to move and the fact that Hermione was pregnant again. The details were way too personal for someone on the outside to know.

"Of course it's Rita Skeeter," Hermione scowled, getting to the end before Ron. "I thought she was banned from writing for them!"

"It looks like they couldn't resist a story like this, no matter who it was from," Ron sighed, closing the paper. He didn't want everyone knowing what had happened to them. It was their life; their personal life. The public had no right to know.

"If she has been listening in... here..." Hermione looked around the room and then spoke a little louder. "I think it's about time we gave this place a really good clean out. Got rid of all the pests which lurk." She jumped from her seat. "I hate her!" she said. "She's pure evil." There were tears in her eyes. Tears of fury. Not many people could have that effect on Hermione.

"I know," Ron said. "I know. But, it's only small. Not everyone is going to see it." He didn't like it anymore than she did, but at least it wasn't front page news.

"It's not the point!" Hermione cried. "She can't do this. This is personal stuff she's sharing with everyone. _Our_ personal stuff. They don't need to know. _Rose_ doesn't even know! How did she find out?"

"The same way she gets all her news," Ron answered. "I'll go and get some bug repellent if you want."

Hermione laughed humourlessly. "Something that kills them would be more suitable, I think." She came to sit back beside him. "This is horrible," she said. "Everything about us is in there. I'm surprised she doesn't have the time – " but whatever she was about to say, she stopped as soon as Rose stumbled sleepily into the kitchen.

Upon seeing their daughter, Hermione chucked the paper away and let Rose climb onto her lap. "Rosie," she said. "There's something we have to tell you. Before you hear it from anyone else."

She began it almost exactly the same way as she had when they had told her about the last baby. Ron hoped Rose wouldn't join the dots. Already they had put her through too much for one little girl to handle.

But, Hermione was right. Now that it was out in the open, she could hear it from anyone. It was best if they told her. Again.

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	32. Cordate

**_Woah, this is an effort to post some days with my VERY slow internet. But I'm determined. So this was one of those words that gave me little inspiration. I hope you enjoy it anyway and remember: your reviews are very much appreciated._**

**I don't own Harry Potter, other than the plot.**

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**Cordate**

_**Heart-shaped**_

The first sympathy letter arrived only hours after she read the article. It was what Hermione had been afraid of. And the fact no one had any business knowing every detail of their life.

Ron had said that maybe no one would see it. But she had known better. Even nine years later, people were still very interested in the lives of people who had helped save them from the darkest wizard of all time. Of course people were going to be curious when they saw a picture of them.

By midday, they had received at least ten letters. Hermione burnt them all. Just when they had been happy, something like this had to happen. It seemed to happen a lot lately. Every time she felt as if something was going right, there was always something just waiting to go wrong.

This time, it was Rita Skeeter interfering in their lives. Their personal lives. Again.

And on the only Valentine's Day she had actually _wanted_ to celebrate.

"Here comes another one," Ron said through clenched teeth. He was staring out the window as an owl in the distance grew gradually bigger.

Hermione shut the window with a flick of her wand. She wasn't going to let anymore in her house.

"I am going to make that woman pay big time!" Hermione exclaimed. The owl was tapping furiously on the window. She ignored it.

"Well... it's kind of nice to know that people care," Ron said cautiously.

Hermione shot him a furious look. She would prefer if no one knew. "Or they're just being nosy," she added.

The owl was still refusing to leave. Ron relented and let it in. He wrenched the letter carelessly from its foot (being rewarded with a nip on his fingers) and destroyed it without even opening it. "I have to go," he then said as if it hadn't happened.

"You've been saying that for the last three hours," Hermione told him.

"I know, but that letter was from the Ministry. Don't need to read it to know who it's from."

"Fine," Hermione huffed. "I'm going to _debug_ this place while you're gone."

She thought she saw Ron try to hide a smirk. "I wish I could join you, but it's my job on the line. If you find her, _please_ don't kill her, though."

"It's what she deserves," Hermione mumbled, allowing Ron to kiss her goodbye. "Anyway, how could I _possibly_ know that a pest sitting on a wall would be her?" It wasn't the truth. She knew perfectly well what Rita Skeeter's Animagus form looked like. But she couldn't promise anything if she found her.

"We don't want two deaths on our case," Ron told her. "One's bad enough." He went towards the fireplace.

"Why aren't you Apparating?" Hermione asked, following him. Rose ran over to hug him goodbye.

"After what happened, they've decided it's best to stop people from Apparating in and out of the Ministry. They only have Ministry member's fireplaces connected, now. Everyone else has to use the visitor's entrance. Apparently the victim was identified as a junior Ministry member. Of course, you would know that if you still worked there."

Hermione pointedly ignored him. "Bye, then." She waited for him to go, before turning to Rose, who was staring into the fireplace, where Ron had just disappeared.

They had told her about the new baby. She had asked if it was another angel baby. They had told her it wasn't. Hermione felt as if it had been a lie. They couldn't promise anything. Every second of every day, she was terrified that what had happened last time would happen again. It was like she was waiting for something to go wrong.

Nothing went right anymore, so why would this be any different?

"I'm scared."

Hermione was taken by surprise at Rose's words. What could she possibly have been scared about? "Why are you scared, Rosie?"

"Bad people."

"Rose, listen to me." She crouched down so she was at her daughter's level. "You don't need to be scared. There is nothing for you to be scared about. Nothing is _ever_ going to happen to you. We won't let it. Do you understand? We won't let anything bad happen to you. _Ever_."

Rose nodded. "Okay."

Hermione pulled her daughter towards her. Anyone who wanted to harm Rose would have to go through her first. "Never be scared when you are with us, Rosie," she said quietly.

"Mummy," Rose then said, whispering. She pulled out of her arms. "I made something."

And it was only then that Hermione realised Rose had raided a pile of spare parchment. She wasn't sure what had happened, but it looked as if it had exploded in her presence. She guessed it served her right for being more concerned about the letters than what her daughter had been doing in the next room.

"What did you do, Rosie?" she exclaimed.

"I made something," Rose repeated, as if it were obvious. "Look." From her pocket, she pulled out a larger piece of parchment. It looked strangely similar to all the smaller pieces scattered across the living room floor. "For you."

Hermione took it. "Thank you, Rosie," she said.

"A heart. From me."

"I can see that." But she couldn't. It looked nothing like a heart.

Rose threw her arms around Hermione's neck. "You don't be scared too," she said.

"I won't be," Hermione assured her. _Or, I'll try not to be_. Her fear of losing another child was never going to go away. Dark wizards, she could handle. Losing someone she loved, that would be too much.

She held Rose closer to her, tightening her grip on the parchment still in her hand. "This is beautiful, Rose," she said. "Thank you."

Rose beamed. "I made it."

Hermione kissed her forehead, smiling despite everything. "And that's why I love it."

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	33. Vilipend

**_Thanks for all your wonderful reviews :) I love reading them. I get so excited. I hope you like this chapter._**

**I only own the plot.**

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**Vilipend**

_**To regard or treat as of little value or account**_

_Rumour has it that after my revelation the other day, Ron and Hermione Weasley are set to move even further away than we anticipated. I hear they are set to leave the country _without_ their young daughter, Roseanna._

Ron stopped reading after that, furious. He watched Hermione as she read all the way down. Her eyes narrowed after each line. "I warned you not to make her angry." He had said it before he realised.

Her glare was enough to make him regret it. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again." It was sarcasm. He knew very well she wouldn't let it go until Rita Skeeter stopped what she was writing. This was her second article on them in three days.

"She's not worth your energy," Ron tried. "Just let her write what she wants. She'll get over it eventually."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "So you're okay with her writing these... these lies about us, are you? And you're okay that she has now gone on to attack _our daughter_ as well. Our two year old daughter."

"No." Of course he wasn't. It made him angrier than he had ever felt. And to include Rose in it was a new low. "What else did she say about Rose? I couldn't read most of it."

Hermione ran her finger down the article. "'Such a tragedy for the young family has left their _four_ year old daughter, Rose_anna _an erratic and out of control child. It is said the couple are unable to cope with their daughter's behaviour and instead of seeking help, have decided to leave the country to escape'." She stopped abruptly, glaring at the article. "Lies, lies, lies!" she said.

Ron clenched his fists. Skeeter was now making them out to be bad parents. What else could she possibly do?

"And you know what the worst thing is?" Hermione asked. "People are going to believe it. She has absolutely no regard for other people. She treats us all like vermin. I can't believe the _Prophet_ let her write again."

This time Ron stopped himself from saying what he really wanted to say. She would never speak to him again if he told her it was her reaction to the first article which had encouraged this second one.

"You have to calm down," he said, seeing her anger grow. "Remember what we agreed? We're taking things slowly this time. Calmly." He only realised then how many times he had been telling her that this past week.

Hermione visibly relaxed. "I know, but she makes me so angry. Why has she chosen us as her target? What have we done recently to offend her?"

Ron shook his head. He had no answer. Hadn't they suffered enough.

"I guess this time we won't be getting any sympathy letters," Hermione sighed, throwing the paper off the table.

"You didn't want that," Ron said.

"I don't want any hate mail either," she argued. "Rose is not _erratic and out of control_. And we're _not_ abandoning her."

"We know that and anyone close to us will know that too. Maybe it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks."

Hermione scoffed, but didn't say anything. She placed her head in her hands. "I just want to go back in time and pretend none of this happened. I want to go back and tell Ginny that our holiday is a bad idea. None of this would be happening, then."

Ron swallowed. "You can't say that," he said.

Her head shot up. She stared at him. Her eyes burnt into his. "Why not?"

"Because..." sometimes she really scared him. Even now, he felt slightly afraid. "Because if none of that had happened, we wouldn't be having _this_ baby."

She shook her head. She looked sad all of a sudden. "Ron," she began. "I... this doesn't feel right."

"What do you mean?"

"Having _this_ baby. It's not right." A few tears rolled down her cheeks. She hadn't cried over this in weeks. "I try, I really do. But – please don't hate me – I can't be happy about it. I tell myself over and over again that it's a good thing. But it's not. I..." she took a deep breath. Ron braced himself for what she was going to say next. He thought he knew. "I don't want this."

The first thought he had was wondering if Rita Skeeter was listening. They'd definitely get the front page if she was. The next thought was actually processing what Hermione had just said.

"It's just going to take some time," he said.

Hermione shook her head again, her tears coming more rapidly now. "I can't feel anything. Not like I do for Rose. Or like I did with..."

"But you said it yourself. You don't want to feel like you did last time. You're scared. That means you do feel something, Hermione. You just don't realise it."

"You don't understand. It's not the same. I don't... _care_. I don't care what happens. Not to me, not to this baby."

Ron sat there, speechless. He wondered if this was something she had been keeping to herself since finding out, or whether Skeeter's articles had prompted it. She hadn't said anything, or given any hints that she had been feeling like this until now. He had thought she had actually been happy about it.

"It means nothing to me," Hermione continued. "I don't want to be pregnant. I don't want to have another baby."

"You don't mean that," Ron said, finally finding a few words. He couldn't believe she was saying this. She would have killed anyone who even _thought_ Rose was a waste of space. This was so unlike her.

"I do. I don't want to mean it, but it's how I feel. I can't help how I feel." She looked up at him. Tears welled in her eyes. "It makes me a horrible person, I know. I thought I would be okay. I thought I was just afraid of losing another child – and I am. I really am. But at the same time, there is a small part of me that is hoping something will happen. Something that will mean we don't have to go through with this."

Ron gaped at her. He wanted to be sympathetic, he wanted to try and understand. But he couldn't. There was no part of him that could understand what she was saying. There was no sympathy inside of him.

"Say something," Hermione eventually said.

"I have nothing to say."

Hermione nodded sadly. "I get that you're angry. I get that you hate me."

"I don't hate you, Hermione. I can't hate you for feeling the way you do. You can't help how you feel. I just know that when this baby is born, you will regret saying this. You will regret even thinking it, because these feelings won't even cross your mind. Somewhere deep inside of you, you love this child like you love Rose. I know that because I know you. You just have to realise it for yourself." He got up. He had nothing more to say to her. There was nothing he _could_ say.

But he knew it was about time she got help. She needed more help than he could give her. It was something that she should have done a long time ago.

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	34. Pachyderm

**_Hi all! I'm back. It's probably the shortest hiatus you've ever seen, but after stopping and taking some time away, I started to miss it. And I felt less pressure to make something happen and instead wrote what I felt like, not what the word told me to write._**

**So here's the deal. I won't be updating every day, but updating and writing when I am inspired. That way, the chapters won't (hopefully) be repetitive and the same thing over and over again. My OCD won't allow me to change the word thing as chapter names, but I will only be choosing words which fit with the chapter. So here it is. This may sound a bit like previous chapters, but I needed a transition one which will hopefully lead into better writing, so bear with me. I have some ideas. Your comments are much appreciated and if you feel I need to stop writing again, then tell me. I want to finish, but I want it to be good.**

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**Pachyderm**

_**A person who is not sensitive to criticism, ridicule, etc.**_

"So you're saying, you don't want another child?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I do. It's like I don't want... _this_ child."

"Because of what happened." It wasn't a question.

This time Hermione nodded. But she wouldn't look the counsellor in the eye. She felt embarrassed to be here. It was hard to talk. But she knew she had to. She had to tell someone what had happened, even if he was a Muggle and she couldn't explain _how_ it had happened.

This profession wasn't that common in the wizarding world. And less confidential. Rita Skeeter would have a field day.

"Then why are you here?" He had introduced himself as Morgan Conners. A middle-aged man who looked nothing less than the clichéd shrinks in movies.

Strangely, Hermione didn't feel confronted by his blunt questions or statements. It was like she _wanted_ to hear them. She needed to hear them. "I... I have a daughter. She gets quite upset seeing me so... distressed."

Morgan didn't say anything. He waited for her to continue.

"It's hard to deal with this so soon after... what happened. I feel as if I'm replacing the child we lost. Like everyone is going to think it will all be okay because things have worked themselves out. I'm worried it's how _I'm_ going to feel."

She felt better talking about it. These were things she couldn't tell Ron. It had been hard enough telling him how she felt. He had barely spoken to her since.

_Out of shock, not disgust_, she kept telling herself.

But he was the reason she was here. And Rose. She had to make an effort for Rose.

"I think you feel more for this child than you think," Morgan suddenly said. Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe it's not how you want to feel, or expect to feel. Maybe it's not how you felt around this time with your daughter. It might be completely different, but given what has happened, that is perfectly understandable. But you feel something. It's only natural for you to feel something."

She didn't question how he seemed so sure of what she was feeling. That was what he was there for. It was his job.

Still, she wasn't sure if he was right. Surely she should have been feeling something more.

"I want you to focus on the positives," Morgan said after she didn't answer. "Focus on what you have, not what you have lost. For every negative thought, think of something positive to go with it."

Hermione nodded. That seemed like a fair enough suggestion. Though, it had been failing her the past two months. Every time she had a negative thought, every other negative thought would come out. Sometimes they were too overpowering.

"I will see you this time next week. We'll take a look at your progress. I have no doubt there will be some improvement in that short time."

Hermione got to her feet, a strange feeling of excitement bubbling inside of her. He had confidence in her. This stranger she had only met an hour ago believed that everything would be okay. He believed that she would be okay. Strangely, it gave her confidence; it gave her something to aim towards.

She was determined to make some change by next week.

_Making things better with Ron_, she decided. He needed to understand. He needed to forgive her.

"Thank you," she said, meaning it.

"It's what I'm here for," he replied.

After that, she left, the excitement inside of her growing. She wanted to get home and tell Ron that even in one hour, she felt as if she was on a path to dealing with what had happened. She knew she had promised him that a hundred times before, but this time she believed it to be true. She was no longer doing this on her own. She had help.

OOO

"How did it go?" Ron's tone told her that she still wasn't forgiven. There was no emotion in his voice. It didn't upset her as much as it had other times. He still loved her, she knew he did. He wouldn't have insisted she seek some kind of help if he didn't.

"It was... good," she replied. "Great, actually. He really helped me, even in one session." She looked at him, feeling the regret of everything that had happened; everything she had done to him. "You were right, I needed to talk to someone. I wish I could have talked to you, but..." she couldn't finish.

Despite everything, he seemed to understand. She couldn't talk to him. Not like she had talked to Morgan.

"I'm glad," was all he said.

"I'm going to do it this time," she promised. "I really am. I won't give up. Rose, you... this baby... I'll do it all for the three of you."

"And for yourself, I hope." Was that a smile she saw? Maybe half a smile.

"Yes, me too," she answered, though she was not the top of her priority list.

"Well I hope you mean it," Ron told her. He was definitely smiling now. "Because I just want the old you back. You come for a while and I get my hopes up and then you go again." He took her hand and held it firmly in his own. "Please stay this time."

"I'm here to stay. I promise you."

"That's good, because we got a message from the... _people_ who deal with that _land thing_ we're going to build our house on. It's all ours. The Ministry have to Muggle proof it, but we're free to build. Whenever you want."

"Whenever _we_ want," Hermione corrected.

"The weekend?"

"Sounds like the perfect time."

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_**Pretty please leave a review. It is much appreciated.**_


	35. Pettifog

**_Thank you so much for all your encouraging reviews. I am feeling a lot better about this fic now, especially seeing as there is no pressure to match a chapter with a word. But in saying that, I felt as this word not only summed up Ron/Hermione in general, it also went well with the idea I had for this chapter. I just HAD to use it._**

**I do not own Harry Potter, of course.**

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**Pettifog**

_**To bicker or quibble over trifles or unimportant matters**_

"Ron, not there! Do you want Rose to trip over it and break her neck?"

"Well where do you want me to put it?" Ron demanded grumpily, moving the bookshelf for the fifth time in ten minutes. "You put it where you want it!"

Hermione pushed past him and moved the shelf against the wall, out of the way from any two year olds. With a satisfied smile, she turned around and made for the next item – a table.

Three months it had taken them to build their house. It was a lot easier with magic. Muggles had to build a house from scratch. Ron was rather pleased with how it had turned out, though. It gave him a strong sense of his childhood. Although it wasn't the same, aspects of his new house reminded him of the Burrow. He liked it.

And so did Rose. He smiled as he watched her drag a in a small box of her toys, Harry following.

"Are you two arguing again?" he questioned.

"No," Ron replied at the same time as Hermione. She smiled at him. "Hermione's just being her usual _I-want-to-do-everything-myself_." Her smile vanished and was replaced by a deathly stare.

_Moods_, he thought sourly. Her moods were worse when she was pregnant.

"My room?" Rose beamed up at Harry.

"You've showed me it three times already, Rosie," Harry said, ruffling up her already messy hair. "But, you can show me again!" he added quickly, seeing Rose's smile falter.

"She's decorated it since last time," Ron called out as his friend vanished up the stairs, Rose pulling on his hand. "I hope you like pink!"

The colour pink was a very new obsession of Rose's. Everything they bought for her had to be pink. Even if it was something as simple as ice-cream.

"Why do you have to be so rude sometimes?" Hermione demanded when they were alone.

Ron held his tongue. There was no point arguing with her. She was always going to win.

"Should we bring some more stuff into the house?" he asked instead. "Otherwise we'll be sleeping in the car."

"Which you still haven't learnt to drive," Hermione retorted.

"I have no need to learn how to drive a car," Ron argued. "I can Apparate and take the Floo Network whenever I want."

Hermione scowled, brushing past him. Ron followed reluctantly. He couldn't wait until this baby was born, if only it was to end the worst of Hermione's mood. He hoped it would change in the next few hours. She had been happy when they had left that morning.

They spent the rest of the morning bringing furniture into their new house. By early afternoon, it was actually starting to look like home. Ron beamed, looking around their brand new living room. He did miss their old place, but this definitely was somewhere he felt more comfortable.

Here, they were free to be themselves. No lying to their neighbours about their professions, no forcing their two year old daughter to keep a secret as big as that. Even Hermione confessed they should have moved a long time ago. Perhaps even before they bought their house in a Muggle town.

"It's looking good, guys," Harry said, coming to stand beside Ron, also admiring the living room.

"Yep," Ron agreed. "It's a lot bigger too. Our other place was way too small. I can see that now."

"Especially with two kids," Harry said.

"Says you, who lives in a noble wizarding family's house!" Ron exclaimed.

"You'd be surprised how much space one small person can take up."

"Oh, no, believe me, I know very well. Everywhere I turn, there's something that belongs to Rose. I never realised how much she owned until I had to pack it all away."

"You're the one who bought her most of it," Hermione said, coming into the room. "You get her anything she wants. It's not good for any of us."

"Well, we can afford to give her the luxuries I never had," Ron said defensively. He liked spoiling Rose. It made up for everything he missed out on as a child. "I'm just waiting for her to ask for a broom. I can't wait to start teaching her Quidditch!"

Harry laughed. "Mate, I think she's already made it clear she prefers books to broomsticks."

"Yeah, well, she might change her mind."

Hermione made a sound which sounded strangely like the words 'not if I can help it'. Ron chose to ignore it. Rose could like books as much as it pleased her – he loved reading to her – but he hoped that one day, she would also come to love Quidditch. It was only right.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Harry then said. "Enjoy your first night here. Tomorrow, I'll bring James and Al and Ginny if she wants."

"Yay!" Rose exclaimed.

"I thought you'd like to see them, Rosie," Harry said. He made for the fireplace, but Ron stopped him.

"Not connected yet, mate," he said.

Harry sighed. "Right. See you." And he Apparated.

"A productive day, don't you think?" Ron asked Hermione, hoping she wasn't going to snap at him. Thankfully, she smiled.

"Yes, I do."

"What should we do for the rest of the day, then?"

"Read!" Rose exclaimed.

"Rosie, surely you're sick of those stories by now," Ron said.

Rose shook her head and brought over a different book. It was new. It contained fictional, romanticised stories of the Battle. He had heard of it, but had never had the courage to read them. Not until Hermione had decided it would be a good idea to get it for her.

_I'm sick of Beedle the Bard_, she had told him. _She needs something new_.

Rose forced the book into his hand. _One day_, he thought. _She will come to love Quidditch as much as this._

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_


	36. Oracular

**_Yay, I finally have another chapter up. This one gave me so much trouble. I knew EXACTLY what I wanted to write, yet whenever I tried, the words in my head were completely different to what ended up on my screen. But I have found something I am relatively happy with. I hope you like it._**

**Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews.**

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

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**Oracular**

_**Ambiguous; obscure.**_

"That was the strangest thing I've ever seen in my life," Ron said, opening the door to their new house. It had been three weeks since they had officially moved in. It was nice. Both of them were happy there.

Hermione smiled. "But you liked it, didn't you?" she asked. She had _finally_ managed to convince Ron to have an ultrasound done for their baby. She had tried talking him around with Rose, but he had been adamant the wizard way was good enough.

She suspected he was fed up with her asking and finally relented, but at least she had convinced him. Even if the technician did have to go through things slowly with him, explaining every detail of what he was doing. He had been slightly confused as to why Ron had no idea what was happening when they had brought Rose along with them. They were supposed to know. They already had a daughter.

"I... it was just strange," Ron said. But despite his resistance to admit he did like it, he stared down at the capture of the baby they had been given. Hermione tapped it with her wand and the picture began to move. After that, he seemed to be happier that it looked more normal.

"How do they do it?" he then asked, placing the photo beside one of Rose. "And what did that Muggle mean when he asked if we would like to know the sex? That's... weird."

Hermione had lost count of how many times he had referred to his experience being strange or weird. After ever sentence, she guessed.

"Only weird to people like us," Hermione said. It was true. She had become so used to the wizarding world, that Muggle things did frighten her sometimes. She just had a better understanding of how things worked than Ron did. "It's quite normal in the Muggle world."

Ron traced his finger over the picture. "That's really our baby?" he asked, sounding awed. He really had liked it. Hermione had seen his expression when the baby had come on the screen. But she knew he would never admit it. Not after he had spent so long ridiculing Muggle practices.

"Yes."

"Weird," he said again.

"I think it's amazing. And beautiful. It's a shame we never got to see it with Rose." Her comment wasn't accusing, but she realised Ron had taken it that way. He looked at her guiltily.

"I didn't know," he said. "I didn't know what it was. I didn't know it was going to be harmless."

Hermione had to stop herself from laughing, because she realised Ron was being serious. "It's okay," she said. "We got another chance." It seemed they were getting a lot of second chances at everything these days.

It seemed so long ago now. So much had happened; so much had changed in a very short space of time. She had never seen herself being able to move on from their loss. But she had. She had never forgotten, but she had moved on. Finally.

Ron was looking at the photo again. "So," he began. "You're saying that from that picture, Muggles can tell if our baby is a boy or a girl?" He squinted at it. "How?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. They just can."

"I don't want to know," Ron continued. "We'll find out sooner or later, anyway. In four and a half months."

_Four and a half months_. That was how long it was. After everything that had happened to them, they only had to wait another four and a half months. Somehow, she thought they deserved it. Well, Ron deserved it more than anything. She had completely fallen apart for a while.

"Four and a half months," she repeated. She saw Ron turn back to the photo. She laughed.

"Why so happy all of a sudden?" Ron questioned, seeming genuinely curious. Sometimes she thought he really didn't use his head properly.

"Because of you, of course," she told him. "You keep looking at that photo."

"I'm curious about it," Ron replied, going slightly red. Hermione was amazed that after all this time he sometimes still struggled to tell her what he was feeling.

"Just admit that you enjoyed today you would go back and see it again if I asked you tomorrow."

Ron didn't answer.

Hermione shook her head. "Alright, then. Have it your way. I'll just... go... and you can continue to secretly love every moment that picture moves."

She went to leave, but Ron finally spoke, drawing her back. "I was worried, you know," he said.

"About what?"

"I love Rose. What if I didn't love this baby as much?" he looked once again at the photo. "But..."

"But after seeing them, you realised that wasn't the case?" Hermione finished.

Ron nodded.

Hermione smiled. "Sometimes I wonder _why on earth_ I decided to marry you. But then you go and say or do something like that and I know exactly why."

"Why?" Ron asked.

She kissed him. "For every one thing that annoys me about you, there are one hundred reasons why I love you. That's why."

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	37. Dowager

**_You guys are fantastic for all your awesome reviews. I'm so glad you're enjoying this fic. I went on a different path with this chapter, but I promise to get back to Ron and Hermione in the next chapters. I hope you don't mind. This was actually what I had planned, but just not from Molly's POV._**

**I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter... except this plot.**

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**Dowager**

_**An elderly woman of stately dignity, especially one of elevated social position.**_

Molly was woken abruptly from her nap by screeching. She sat up straight and was shocked to find two of her grandchildren on the floor in what appeared to be a wrestling match.

Despite her small size, Rose looked to almost have the better of Victoire. But it was strange. What had caused sweet, little Rose to snap? She had developed a temper, according to Ron. A big one, so it seemed.

"Girls, girls, what is going on?" she demanded.

The two of them pulled apart instantly. They looked up at her from their spot on the floor.

"Rose said she doesn't want to play my game anymore!" Victoire exclaimed.

"Boring," Rose interrupted.

"It's not!" Victoire screeched, tears glistening her eyes.

Rose glared at her cousin. Surely, it had been just one, big misunderstanding. Neither were violent girls. None of her grandchildren were violent.

"Please, calm down," Molly begged. "Victoire, please tell me what happened." This is what she got for taking her eyes off them for more than one minute.

"We were playing," Victoire began, sticking her tongue out at Rose. "Then Rose said she didn't want to play anymore. I told her the rules was she had to play."

"What rules?" Molly questioned. "Whose rules?" Knowing Victoire, she had probably made them up as she went. Poor Rose always seemed to be her victim in these situations.

"Mine," the seven year old replied. "I made the game up, so she has to play by the rules. And she didn't."

"So why did I find the two of you on the floor, wrestling one another?" Molly asked.

Victoire folded her arms and shot Rose a disgusted look. "I told her she had to keep playing and she got angry. She started pulling my hair."

"Is this true, Rose?"

Rose looked sheepishly up at her and nodded.

"Are you allowed to pull people's hair?" Molly continued.

Rose shook her head. "No," she said quietly.

"So, what do you say to Victoire?" Now that she thought about it, this wasn't the first time in the last few weeks Rose had attacked one of her cousins. Ginny had told her she had gotten into a fight with Albus over a toy.

"Sorry," Rose mumbled.

"And Victoire... what do you say to Rose?" This was not how she imagined to be spending the day with her grandchildren. Forcing them to apologise to one another for fighting. She couldn't bear to imagine what it would be like when their magic started to show.

Victoire folded her arms defiantly, purposely not looking at Rose.

"Victoire..." Molly warned.

Victoire shook her head. "She broke the rules."

"Well, I happen to think they are unfair rules. Please apologise and maybe let Rose choose a game this time."

But before Victoire would even consider it, there was a _swooshing_ from the fireplace and Ron appeared. He looked dishevelled and a little frustrated.

Rose smiled and ran over to him. Her arms flung around his neck and she placed a wet kiss on his cheek. Victoire was also on her feet, apparently slightly startled by his sudden appearance.

"Are you going home now, Rose?" she asked. She sounded disappointed.

"I'm afraid so, Vic," Ron replied. "But if you want, Rose can come over to your place next week. Or you can come to ours." Rose's affection seemed to have lifted his mood in a matter of seconds.

Rose shook her head vigorously. "No!"

"Rose, dear, go and get your things," Molly said kindly. She had to talk to Ron. "Victoire, why don't you help her?"

Victoire nodded, apparently hurt by her little cousin's rejection. She took Rose's hand and tried leading her from the room, but Rose brushed her off.

"Another fight?" Ron questioned, sounding almost bored. Victoire setting Rose off wasn't really a new thing. Rose's reaction was.

"Is something the matter with Rose?" Molly asked. "I found her wrestling Victoire on the floor."

Ron looked angry. "Nothing's _wrong_ with her!" he said, misunderstanding her question.

"I never said anything was wrong. But ask her if she's okay. Clearly something is bothering her. Perhaps it is something to do with this new baby. It's not uncommon for children to feel rejected or less important. I would know. I raised seven kids."

"That isn't supposed to happen until _after_ the baby's born," Ron argued, seeming determined to make excuses for his daughter's out-of-character behaviour. "She may have changed, but Rosie is changing every day. I'm sure she will stop it soon."

"She shouldn't be attacking anyone, Ron! Just talk to her."

Ron stubbornly refused to respond.

Rose came running back in, a backpack in her hands. Its contents were falling from it.

With a look of indignation, Ron closed her bag with a wave of his wand and then grabbed her hand. "Come on, Rosie," he grunted.

Rose looked back at Molly and waved. "Bye," she said.

"Bye, dear," Molly responded. "I'll see you soon." _If Ron isn't too angry with me_.

Rose grinned. "Okay."

And before anymore could be said, Ron had taken her to the fireplace and vanished. Moments later, Fleur arrived to take Victoire.

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	38. Selcouth

**_And so I have another chapter. Thanks so, so much for your reviews. I get so excited whenever I get an email. I hope you enjoy this chapter. And don't forget to leave a review._**

**I only own this plot.**

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**Selcouth**

_**Strange; uncommon.**_

"Is everything okay, Ron?"

Ron sighed heavily, collapsing onto the couch where Hermione was lying. He watched Rose as she pulled out everything from inside her backpack and without a word, plopped herself onto the floor with a book and opened it to a random page.

She started reading to herself. Or pretending to read to herself. She hadn't memorised each page of that one yet.

"Just a long day at work," he answered Hermione. "Then mum didn't help when I went to pick Rose up. She thinks something's wrong with Rose."

"Wrong, how?" Hermione questioned, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Rose... 'attacked' Victoire today," Ron told her.

Hermione sighed. "Attacked?"

"Um, trying to rip her hair out, I think," Ron answered as casually as possible. He didn't look her in the eye. He didn't want it to be true, but he had witnessed Rose attack Albus a few weeks ago. There was no way he could ignore it a second time. No matter how much he wanted to.

"Rosie?"

Ron nodded. "Apparently so. It's not like her, is it? Maybe mum has a point."

They watched their daughter as she happily turned the pages of her book, making up stories to each picture; giggling.

"But she seems okay," Hermione tried to reason. Ron realised the same thoughts were going through her head. Not their Rosie.

But he heard the concern in her voice; concern that he had been trying to push away. "But, you're right. It's not like Rose to physically hurt someone. We've never taught her to do that," she said.

"She's two years old," Ron argued. "She's changing. Maybe this _is_ her."

"We know our daughter, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "And if it is who she is becoming, then we've got to squash it out of her before it gets too serious." She sat up from where she had been lying on the couch, her growing tummy making it more difficult. "Rosie," she said. "Could you come over here, please? Daddy and I would like to talk to you."

Rose looked at both of them, her lips quivering. "Sorry," she said.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then back at their daughter

"What for?" Hermione questioned.

"I hurt Tori," she answered.

"Come here, sweetheart," Hermione said, patting a space on the couch, between them.

Rose got to her feet and squeezed herself into the small space. She looked at her tiny hands, not making eye contact with either of them.

That was strange in itself, Ron realised.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione continued.

Ron thought she was going to tell them nothing was wrong, but instead, she nodded. "Yes."

"What's the matter, Rosie?" he asked, trying to hide the panic that had suddenly filled him. He didn't want anything to be wrong. Everything was meant to be okay. His children were meant to be happy. Rose was meant to be a loving and caring little girl – the way he had taught her. She wasn't supposed to attack her cousins.

Nothing was supposed to be wrong.

Rose looked at Hermione. "Baby's gone," she told her sadly. "Again."

"Baby? You mean this baby?" Hermione asked, pointing to her tummy.

Rose nodded.

Hermione shook her head. "No, Rosie. The baby's not gone."

Rose shook her head. "Gone. Not here."

Ron hadn't realised he had been holding his breath until he let it go. It all made sense now. Rose was confused. She thought the baby was gone because it wasn't here; she couldn't see it. They hadn't really explained to her how long it would take.

"Aw, Rosie, I can promise you the baby isn't gone," relief also apparent on Hermione's face. " It just has to grow so when it is born, you will have a healthy baby brother or sister. Here," she took Rose's hand and moved it to a spot on her stomach.

Ron smiled as Rose's eyes lit up when she felt the baby kick. He had a suspicion that was what his face had looked like the first time Hermione had got him to do that with Rose. She had laughed at him then. She just smiled at Rose.

"Do you feel that?"

Rose nodded. "Baby?" she asked.

Hermione nodded. "That means the baby is okay. There's no need for you to be worried." She grabbed some parchment which had been left in the living room and tapped it with her wand. A chart appeared on the blank page. "This is how many days left until the baby will be born." She tapped it again and a cross appeared on day one. "Do you see these boxes?"

"Yes," Rose answered.

"Take this quill and every morning, before you come into our bedroom, put a cross or some kind of mark in this box. When there are no more boxes left, that will mean the baby will be here."

Rose nodded again. Ron wasn't sure if she had understood, but she seemed to get that there really was going to be a baby. It wasn't going to be like last time. "'Kay," she said.

Hermione kissed the top of her head. "It's all okay," she assured her. "Everything is going to be alright. But Rosie, about you hurting Victoire... you know that hurting people is not very nice. We have told you that lots of times before."

Rose's eyes diverted back to back to her lap. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's good that you are apologising, but do you think you should apologise to Victoire, too?"

Rose nodded guiltily. "Yes."

"I'll take you to her house now," Ron said to her. "And you can say sorry." He stood up from the couch and Rose took his hand. She looked back at Hermione.

"You're angry," she said.

Hermione shook her head. "Not angry, just disappointed, Rose. I didn't like hearing that you had hurt someone."

"Sorry," Rose said again.

"You're forgiven, sweetheart. Just don't do it again."

"No," Rose assured her. She then smiled up at Ron, looking at him hopefully. He pulled her closer to him. He'd let Hermione to be the one who got her into trouble this time. She seemed to have learnt her lesson.

Just before he Apparated to Bill's, Hermione shook her head at him, clearly trying not to laugh. "She'll have you wrapped around her finger when she's older," she said.

Ron didn't answer. He hated getting angry with Rose, but he knew there would come a time when he really would and he wasn't looking forward to it.

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_**Please don't leave without giving a review :)**_


	39. Vernal

**_I hope you like this chapter. It's the ONLY one I've had planned from the very beginning. Comments and reviews are muchly appreciated._**

**I don't own anything other than the plot.**

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**Vernal**

_**Appearing or occurring in spring.**_

"Ron. Ron. Wake up," Hermione hissed into her husband's ear. It was the very early hours of the morning, but she knew the feeling. This baby was coming. There wasn't much she could do about it.

Ron groaned, rolling over. "What?" he mumbled.

Hermione smacked his hand away from his eyes. "Who said they would take Rose when we went to St Mungo's?" she questioned.

"Mmm, Ginny, I think," Ron mumbled.

"Good, then take her over there," Hermione replied.

Ron sat up. "What? You mean... now?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Ron clamoured out of bed, chucking on the first clothes he found. "I'll be two minutes," he said when he reached the door.

Hermione waited, listening intently to Ron entering Rose's bedroom, her daughter complaining and saying she didn't want to get up and then the soft _pop_ of the two of the Apparating. She waited quite some time (more than two minutes) before Ron reappeared, looking dishevelled.

"I don't recall Harry and Ginny living in the Forbidden Forest," she said with some humour, taking in his appearance. Even though it was dark, she knew that his face had gone red.

"I, er, Apparated into James and Albus' bedroom. Harry and Ginny nearly killed me. Ginny still tried to when she realised it was me."

Hermione fought back a laugh as she sat up, her back resting against the wall. Ron went to help her, but she shook her head. "I'm okay," she said.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked uncertainly. "How long has this been going on for?"

Hermione realised he was probably remembering the time Rose had been born. She had come so quickly, neither of them had had much time to prepare. Already, she knew this was going to take longer. "Since I woke you," she said. "Not very long."

Ron sat beside her on the bed. "Can I get you anything? Anything at all?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine." She ran her hand over her tummy, gasping at the small amount of pain she felt. Nothing much. She knew the worst was still to come.

Ron offered her his hand and she took it, her thumb tracing his palm. She rested her head on his shoulder. "If you want or need anything, just tell me," he said soothingly, running his free hand through her hair.

"Thank you," Hermione replied. "How was Rose?"

"Excited."

"I can't wait for her to have a baby brother or sister," Hermione continued. "It will be good for her. I think that's why she loves spending time with her cousins so much."

Ron kissed her temple. "It will be good for all of us," he told her. "Do you think we'll be able to manage two kids, though?"

He tried to hide it, but Hermione heard the genuine concern in his voice. She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Of course we will. After everything we've been through, how difficult can two kids be?"

"I suppose," Ron answered. "And compared to Harry and Ginny's kids, Rose is an angel."

Hermione laughed. "Angel might be pushing it," she said.

"Well, to me she is."

"Me too."

They sat in silence after that, Hermione feeling a contraction every now and then, but still nothing too serious. It was Ron who spoke first.

"Do you want a boy or a girl?"

Hermione looked up at him. "After what has happened, I just want this baby. Boy, girl, or Hippogriff."

Ron laughed. "That might scare Rose a little," he said.

"Thanks for being here, Ron," she said.

"Where else would I be?" Ron questioned, sounding slightly offended by her statement.

"No, I don't mean here as in right now. Just for simply being here."

Ron pulled her closer to him, this time speaking softly. "Again, where else would I be?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

OOO

_Dear Harry and Ginny,_

_This is Hugo Weasley. Our son. He was born at 10:43am on March 10, come and see him at St. Mungo's as soon as you can. We'd love for you to meet him._

_Love always,_

_Ron and Hermione._

_P.S. Don't forget to bring Rosie so she can meet her baby brother._

Ron attached his final letter to the St. Mungo's owl and watched it disappear. It carried six other letters – all to members of the family. He hoped they wouldn't be here for another few hours. It would give them some time to spend with their newborn son.

He made his way back to the maternity ward, where Hermione was holding baby Hugo. She had a huge smile on her face as she watched him sleep. Ron was pleased. He had known her feelings towards Hugo would be real once she saw him. He doubted the thought of he being 'a replacement' would have even crossed her mind.

Neither of them saw Hugo like that. They just saw their baby. Hugo.

"Where did you disappear to?" Hermione questioned, finally taking her eyes away from her newborn son.

Ron shrugged. "To let everyone know," he told her. "Couldn't help it." He plonked himself in a chair, glancing at the clock. It was only midday. How long had he been awake for?

Hermione returned her attention to Hugo. "He's so beautiful," she said. "So, so amazing."

"Well, he must take after you, then," Ron grinned at her, even though she wasn't looking at him. He'd have to get used to that, he supposed.

"He clearly looks like you, Ron," Hermione argued. "But either way, he's beautiful."

"That, I will agree with."

"Mummy!"

Ron nearly jumped from his seat in shock at the sound of Rose's voice. He hadn't expected her so soon. Surely, the owl wouldn't have reached them yet.

Rose ran into the room, her eyes only on her mother. She didn't even seem to see Ron there. She climbed onto the bed and crawled up to Hermione's lap. Ron picked her up before she could knock her baby brother out of Hermione's arms.

"Careful, Rosie," he said.

"Who's that?" Rose questioned, pointing to the bundle of blankets in Hermione's arms.

"That is your new brother," Ron told her. "Hugo."

"Hoo-go," Rose repeated softly, staring at the baby.

Ron placed her gently beside Hermione. "Be careful," he warned her. "He's a lot smaller than you. You have to be gentle."

Rose took his words seriously, stroking her baby brother's cheek with the tip of her finger. She giggled.

"Where's Uncle Harry, Rosie?" Ron asked, realising Harry or Ginny hadn't come in with her.

Rose shrugged. "Not here," was the only thing she said before returning her attention to Hugo.

Ron smiled. Ten years ago, he never would have thought this was possible. He never would have considered that one day, he'd feel this happy. But he was. He was very happy with Hermione, Rose and now Hugo. He wanted nothing to change.

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_**I really hope you liked this chapter and I really hope I got dates and all that right. I never usually include birthdays because I always end up messing them up and siblings who are supposed to be two years apart always end up being born five years apart (but still two years apart in age). Especially as I live in Australia so the seasons are all different and I get confused at the best of times. So, if anything is wrong with Hugo's age, birthdate, season of Spring, please let me know and I will change it. Thanks.**_


	40. Eudemonia

**_Thanks so much for your encouraging, amazing reviews. It means the world._**

**I don't own anything but the plot.**

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**Eudemonia**

_**Happiness; well-being.**_

Hermione wiped away a few stray tears as she watched her baby son sleep. He was so peaceful in his cot, dreaming about who knew what. She loved him so much. She loved him like she loved Rose. She loved him like she loved her other child; her angel baby.

That was such a long time ago, now. So many things had happened. So much had changed. Back then, she had been a year younger, feeling pain like she had never felt in her life and thinking it wasn't possible to be happy again.

As Hugo coughed in his sleep, a great wave of love for him stirred inside of her. She didn't deserve such a sweet boy as her son. Not after she had implied she didn't even want him.

But he was here now and she couldn't have been happier. Those feelings lay forgotten. They didn't even exist inside of her. They had disappeared the moment she had seen him; the moment she had held him in her arms.

"Goodnight, Hugo," she whispered, breathing in his name. Hugo. She loved it. Ron had given it to him, saying the name meant 'heart, mind and spirit' – in honour of his lost sibling. How he had come to discover that, she never asked. But she thought it was fitting.

"How is he?"

Hermione jumped at the sound of Ron's voice beside her. She hadn't heard him come in. "Sleeping," she answered.

Ron put his arm around her. "Then why are you still here?" he questioned. Hermione knew he was mocking her. It had been the same after Rose was born. She just couldn't leave. She loved being with her children.

"I'm just making sure he's okay," she said. "It's his first night at home. He might be scared."

"If he is, he will let us know," Ron replied, guiding her towards Hugo's bedroom door. "Get some sleep."

Hermione glanced back at her sleeping son. He hadn't even stirred.

"He'll be alright," Ron assured her gently. He shut the door half way. "Rosie is waiting for you to say goodnight to her. You know she won't sleep unless you do. Then please come straight to bed."

Hermione pulled herself away from Ron's hold. "I'll be right back," she said.

"And don't worry about putting the Silencing Charms on her room. Already done it."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you." She made her way into Rose's room. They had decided it would be best to put Silencing Charms on her room at night. Rose was very capable of sleeping through the night and they didn't want to give her any reason to wake up. Otherwise, they'd have two upset children, one of whom would make her way into their bed.

As expected, Rose was lying wide awake. Hermione couldn't believe that in a few months time she would be three years old. She probably didn't even realise. But then again, for her age, she was very aware of a lot of things. She understood things she shouldn't have.

"You should be asleep, Rose," she said quietly, coming to sit on her bed.

Rose shook her head. "Can't sleep, mummy."

Hermione kissed her forehead. "I know. Not until I say goodnight."

Rose nodded. "G'night," she said, yawning.

"Goodnight, Rosie," Hermione whispered. "I love you very, very much."

Rose put her small arms around Hermione's neck and kissed her cheek noisily. "Me too," she said. "And Hoo-go and daddy, too," she added.

"And they love you, Rose." Hermione kissed her again. "You make all of us very happy. Don't you ever think you don't."

Rose didn't seem jealous of Hugo at the moment, but he had only been home for a few hours. She knew it was only going to be a matter of time before Rose started to feel left out, or forgotten – she felt like that when she was the centre of attention. She found no harm in telling her daughter now that, no matter what, she was loved just the same.

"'Kay," Rose replied. She was asleep before Hermione reached the door. She closed it quietly and made her way back to her own room. Ron was already in bed, sleeping as well. She smiled. How foolish she had been to think he'd actually stay awake for her.

"My daughter waits up for me, but not my husband," she said teasingly as she climbed into bed.

"I'm awake," Ron mumbled sleepily, drawing her closer to him.

"Barely," Hermione laughed. She felt his lips in her hair and his arms tighten around her.

This was happiness. She remembered now. This was what it was like to feel happy; to feel loved. It had been a very long time since she had been this happy. Maybe she never had.

Ron had been right. It really had worked out. It really had gotten better. And she had him and her children to thank for it.

OOO

_**The End**_

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_**Yep. That's the end, end. I decided to finish it here, because a) I thought this word was very fitting for an ending (coming from someone who struggles to right anything other than happy endings) and b) I planned on finishing it somewhere around here from the very beginning.**_

_**I'd just like to take a moment and thank every single person who has favourited, alerted and most importantly reviewed this fic. It would always make my day when I would come home, see that I had five or six reviews and then it would make me smile when I read that you were enjoying this fic. I am happy that you thought I portrayed the emotions right, because most of it was coming from how I imagined someone would react in this situation. Not what I had witnessed. **_

_**I hope that everyone agrees this was a good spot to end it. I feel as if I continued, it would have gotten off track again. But if you would like to read more of my work, please feel free to do so. I have another multi-chap fic going at the moment called "Look at the Stars". It is Rose/Scorpius centred, but also Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny and my absolute favourite Ron/Rose (father/daughter). It also has many more of those next-gen family relationships. I also have some one shots that I would really appreciate reviews for.**_

_**Once again, thank you all so much. Your kind words helped write this fic. I hope to see you around.**_


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